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COMPLETE WORKS OF 


EDMUND VANCE COOKE 


Just Then Something Happened ! A Story for 
Children. Cloth, 75 Cents Net 

The Story Club. Stories for Children. 

Cloth, $1.50 

Told to the Little Tot. Stories for Children. 

Cloth, $1.50 

Chronicles of the Little Tot. Poems „ about 
Children. Cloth, $1.50 

Leather, $2.00 

I Rule the House. Poems about Children. 

$1.00 Net 

Impertinent Poems. Poems Men Like. 

Cloth, $1.50 

Little Songs for Two. Love Poems. 

Cloth, $1.00 Net 
Leather, $1.50 Net 

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Cloth, $1.50 

The Uncommon Commoner and similar songs 
of democracy. Cloth, $1.50 

PUBLISHED BY DODGE PUBLISHING 
COMPANY NEW YORK 





Mr. Packlepoose told her the story. 





JUST THEN 

SOMETHING HAPPENED 


BY 


EDMUND VANCE COOKE 

Author of 

" The Story Club,” “ Told to the Little Tot,” etc. 



NEW YORK 

DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

220 East Twenty-third Street 


* 9 



Copyright, 1914, by 
DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

[Just Then Something Happened] 


APR 14 1914 



©CI.A36969 4 


Dody, Teeny, Paudy, and Sonshine, 

whose demand for “ more stories ” brought these adven- 
tures out of the Nowhere into the Here, this 
bookful is lovingly dedicated by their 
paternal chum. 


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CONTENTS 


PAGE 


CHAPTER I 1 

Bumpybambooney, the Porch-Light and the Prince. 

Oh, did you never know that there were lions in Lake 
Erie? 

CHAPTER II 13 


Say, where do you go when you go to sleep? 

“ Go away, Papa ! ” said Bumpybambooney. Whoot, toot ! 
ding, dong! and the train didn’t stop at Goshen, be- 
cause the wind blew backward. 

CHAPTER III 24 

Well, well! it looks like a Blue Acorn and it acts like 
a policeman. 

“ Stop the kidnapper ! ” Hide-and-seek in a hotel. 

If you run along the house-tops of New York, someone 
may invite you down the scuttle-hole. 

CHAPTER IY 42 

Did you ever see a Monster with one red eye, one green 
eye and a nose to poke into ferry-boats? 

The Blue Acorn finds Mr. Packlepoose in the fog and 
Mr. Packlepoose jumps into the air and disappears. 

CHAPTER V .50 

Chubby Charlie finds a Hoodoo, and dear! dear! the Blue 
Acorn finds Mr. Packlepoose a long way away. 

The big boat gets its nose frost-nipped by an ice-berg. 

CHAPTER VI 61 

How would you like to ride down hill on an Arctic 
Automobile ? 

Ouch! the big, bitey bears are coming. 

Presto, here’s a ship-load of monkeys! 

[vii] 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


CHAPTER VII 70 

My! what a big mouth! 

Three bad, bad bandits try to push Mr. Packlepoose into 
the volcano. 

Out of the dark comes flying a bird-beast with a cow’s tail. 

And away over in America Bumpybambooney is so sorry. 

CHAPTER VIII 82 


The hill-finger with the emerald ring. 

A well full of watches. What’s that coming? Why, its 
a pirate air-ship. 

R-r-r-ip! and Mr. Packlepoose falls out. 

CHAPTER IX 93 

What sort of an animal alights on steeples, rains gold- 
pieces and chatters like a monkey? 

How to make a long ladder out of a short piece of rope. 

CHAPTER X 102 

Two white priests, three black pirates, a wilderness of 
dogs and a monkey ! 

They lead to the Lady-with-the-Blue-Eyes and a sewed up 
sackful of Packlepobse is thrown into the sea. 

CHAPTER XI 112 

Gobbo’s collection comes in handy. 

An Automobillyboat looks like a scow on stilts. 

Say, you couldn’t catch an oyster with your tail, could 
you ? Gobbo did. 

The Mahogany Man wants to play marbles. 

CHAPTER XII 125 

The Great White Pearl. 

Yes, you can get seasick in the desert. 

And it makes one mad to have his boat bite him in the leg. 

[ viii ] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XIII 

Should a camel have one emetic to each stomach to make 
him throw up? 

The Story Teller of the Grand Sherif meets the King- 
kicker of Kiowa. 

Who stole the Sacred Black Stone? 

CHAPTER XIV 

The Kingkicker does his day’s work. 

The Executioner with the Green Mask pauses to spit on 
his hands and the Man with the Snake-Turban steps 
out of the Dead House. 

CHAPTER XV 

Bumpybambooney changes her wish. 

Captain Smallgrog, Knucklenosed Nick, Banty Jim, Larry 
the Lobster and Mr. Bumps make more trouble for 
Mr. Packlepoose. The Kingkicker scores another 
tally. Bump ! 

CHAPTER XVI 

A live man is very good bait for a big fish. 

A bunch of tin cans tied to the tail of a sea-beast makes 
a fine and fast sharkomobile. 


CHAPTER XVII 

The Feast of White Man’s Dog. 

Hi! yi! Hi! yi! and the God-of-the- waters comes skim- 
ming along. 

Herr Sclinitz and Red Rags are glad about it, too. 

CHAPTER XVIII 

The Butterfly chases The Terrible Bird. 

Mrs. Hockamaboury receives word from Papa Packle- 
poose. 

Red Rags finds a wow-wow-wallaby and wishes he hadn’t. 

[ix] 


PAGE 

134 


145 


153 


164 


169 


176 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XIX 

Bushbeard throws two curved clubs. 

The Sorcerer makes a medicine dance around the Dead 
Man. 

The Dinornis! the Dinornis! 

CHAPTER XX 

Aboard the Waterbumps. 

Fishfeeder takes off his buttons, Sleepnaut takes out his 
eye and Jackyjump has so good a time that Mr. 
Packlepoose is delivered to the police-boat. 

CHAPTER XXI 

Who is O’Connell O’Shea? 

Mr. Packlepoose is bumped out of bed and shaken out of 
jail. 

A jeweled hand sticks out of the ruins and the fingers 
move. 

“ Shoot him! ” yells the Blue Acorn. 

CHAPTER XXII 

Packlepoose the Policeman. 

Fishfeeder finds it difficult to walk on the water. 

The Quaker and Shaker Collection Co. does a good busi- 
ness and the Delivery Wagon sails for Seattle. 

CHAPTER XXIII 

The Rat points the way to the Ugly Mug. 

Single Eye and Triple Eye have a fight. 

Mr. Packlepoose is put to bed in the Room-without-a- 
Floor. 

CHAPTER XXIV 

The Great Lakes Limited. What the haughty Observa- 
tion Car observed. 

The conductor finds a shipmate and loses a boy. 

Shut up in the stomach of a mountain. 

[x] 


PAGE 

189 


\ 


196 


212 


222 


235 


245 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XXV 


PAGE 

264 


The Secret Seven, and the Hogheimer Company. 

Jim Lovell starts to rip up a mountain. 

Does choke-damp make you crazy, or can a horse talk in 
the bowels of the earth? 

The mine turns into a chimney. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


274 


The Calmest Man sends Mr. Packlepoose to Billings. 

Well, well! at last we know why there are no soda- 
fountains on railroad trains. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


283 


Who ever heard of a Promoter of Peanuts? 

The Sharpener of Ladies’ Lead Pencils, the Cranker-up 
of Millionaire’s Motor Cars, the Rescuer of Cramp- 
Catchers and the Needle-threader for Near-sighted 
Bachelors all go to the Book Yard. 

CHAPTER XXVIII 296 

The Sailors’ Circus hires a new man. 

Mr. Packlepoose fights with a pilot-snake on a ladder. 

Whew! what a wind. 

CHAPTER XXIX 304 

Zachary Zeno tells his story and several things happen 
to which no attention is paid. 

Beef-and-Mutton-Chops demands duty and The Petrel 
chases the Circus-ship. 

CHAPTER XXX 314 

Never set fire to a ship to warm yourself. 

A hot time on the lake and the animals are loose. 

Why, certainly there are lions in Lake Erie. 

Mr. Packlepoose runs up the steps and just then some- 
thing happens. 


[xi] 




ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING PAGE 


Mr. Packlepoose told her the story 


Title 


He was running like a man running for his life . 

He was fat and heavy and he couldn’t run fast . 

There were three bears coming for him .... 

Mr. Packlepoose was clinging desperately to the anchor-rope 

Gobbo leaped upon him and the dog set up a howl 

A little terrified face appeared above the water . 

Once more he swung his sword aloft 

A dozen naked Igorrotes danced around him 

The kangaroo backed up against a tree .... 

As he looked, he saw the hand open and shut 

They dragged him out and down a long, dark hall 

“ Hang on tight, ’cause old horse has to feel his way ” 

He ran from shoulder to shoulder across the crowd 

An-other hinsult ! screamed “ Beef-and-Mutton-Chops,” 
shaking both fists 


8 

28 

64 

80 

104 . 

112 

150 

170 


U' 
V — 

L- 

y 

U 
l — 


184 ^ 

V ' 

218 

242 ' 

268 ^ 

y 

300 


314 




He clambered out, replaced the lid and looked about . 


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JUST THEN SOMETH ING 
HAPPENED 

I 


WHY DO SOME THINGS HAPPEN AND OTHER 
THINGS NOT HAPPEN? BUMPYBAMBOONEY, 
THE PORCH-LIGHT AND THE PRINCE. OH, DID 
YOU NEVER KNOW THAT THERE WERE LIONS 
IN LAKE ERIE? 


J UST then something happened. I 
just want to mention in the begin- 
ning that there are a good many things 
which happen . A good many things happen, 
of which you and I never hear, and a good 
many things which don’t happen we read 
about in the newspapers. 

I don’t pretend to know why some things 
happen and other things do not happen, but 
everybody knows it is so. The trouble is 
that people are such poor judges of the 

[i] 


JUST THEN 


things which do, or do not, happen. Now, 
you probably never knew that there were 
lions in Lake Erie. I’m not surprised at 
that. I never knew it either. But, as you 
can see for yourself, the question is not “ Did 
you know it? ” or “ Did I know it? ” but the 
question is “ How did it happen? ” 

Mr. Packlepoose was hurrying home to see 
Bumpybambooney, and it happened. Of 
course Mr. Packlepoose wasn’t his real name. 
That was just Bumpybambooney ’s pet name 
for her papa. And of course Bumpybam- 
booney wasn’t her real name. That was just 
Mr. Packlepoose’s pet name for his little 
girl. 

Of course he was very fond of Bumpy- 
bambooney and Bumpybambooney was very 
fond of him. You can tell that from the 
names. So he was hurrying home to supper 
and to Bumpybambooney, and that’s how it 
happened. That’s how he happened to be 
chased by the wolves and how the lions hap- 
pened to get into Lake Erie. 

[ 2 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


It was getting dusk and Bumpybambooney 
was waiting for him with her nose pressed 
against the glass. Every once in a while she 
would run and snap the porch-light on, and 
off, and then on again, so that her papa could 
see it if he were coming. She often played 
this way, pretending that she was a princess 
in a lonely castle (a “ beleaguered castle ” she 
called it when she didn’t forget the long 
word), and that her papa was a prince com- 
ing to rescue her. When she snapped the 
light on, that was a signal that the good 
fairy of Light was fighting with the Dark- 
ness demon and the Prince was to come. Or 
sometimes she pretended the porch-light was 
the fierce eye of the one-eyed dragon and 
then she snapped the light off as a signal that 
he was asleep. 

But this evening she found it was a little 
too early for a light and so she snapped it 
off and resumed her station at the window. 
She could see the corner where the street- 
cars stopped and she could see the end of 
[ 8 ] 


JUST THEN 


the road which led from the Park, for their 
house was only a short way from the Park 
where the Zoo was. 

Remember, I said where the Zoo was for 
they were just about to move the Zoo from 
the Park in the East End away over to 
Riverside Park at the other end of the town. 
Bumpybambooney was sorry for this, for she 
liked to go over to see the big awkward 
grizzly bear and the floppity ostrich and the 
moose that made the funny noise like a horn 
blowing up and down the scale, and the gray 
foxes and their cousins the coyotes and the 
camel that reminded her of a gigantic walk- 
ing peanut with a head to it, and the nervous 
lions always walking to and fro and the funny 
monkeys who looked at her as if they wanted 
to talk to her, if they only dared. 

She knew she was going to miss the Zoo, 
for even when she didn’t go near it she knew 
it was there because she heard the coyotes 
yelping every night about bed-time and she 
liked the strange half-afraid feeling it gave 
[ 4 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

her and the little shiver that ran up and down 
her back-bone. She could play a good many 
games with herself when the coyotes howled. 
She could be Davy Crockett with the wolves 
snuffing at the crack under the door. She 
could be a traveler in a tree, — oh, a very little 
tree ! — so little that it bent beneath her weight 
and the wolves could almost reach her toes 
as they leaped into the air and snapped at 
them; ouch! 

But now it was all over. Why, this was 
the very last day of the Zoo in the old 
Park. She knew they were to move it that 
very night or the next morning. Had she 
not been over that very day to see some of 
the animals turned out of their dens into 
the wagon-cages which were to carry them 
to Riverside? She had stayed until the skies 
turned cloudy and then she had come home 
to escape the storm, and to wait for her papa 
and supper. Or dinner. Sometimes it was 
supper, sometimes dinner. Anyway, it was 
good to eat. 


[ 5 ] 


JUST THEN 

My! but it was beginning to rain hard and 
to blow. She could see the tent at the corner 
flapping in the wind. Oh, didn’t I tell you 
about the tent at the corner? It really wasn’t 
a tent at all, but it was a piece of canvas 
on a frame and shaped like a tent. You see 
there was a man-hole at the corner leading 
down into the big new sewer and every few 
days some men came and took off the big, 
round, iron cover (like a huge stove-lid) and 
went down to do something to the sewer. 
While they were working, with the cover off, 
they put the tent over the hole, so nobody 
would fall into it, I suppose. Bumpybam- 
booney used to watch for the coming of the 
“ little tent,” and she played a game with 
that, too. Usually she was an Indian and the 
sewer men were Indians of another tribe and 
the “ little tent ” was their wigwam. And 
she w^ould have a war-dance with herself and 
then dress up in a bath-robe and feather- 
duster and pretend to shoot arrows and to 
hurl tomahawks at the wigwam and, when 
[ 6 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


the sewer-men were through work and took 
the little tent away, she would pretend she 
had won a great victory and had driven the 
enemy off. Then she would hold a sun-dance 
and would get her bubble-pipe and pretend 
to smoke the pipe of peace. She was half 
playing to-day that the wind was her friend 
and the slanting rain was the arrows which 
were shooting from the skies against her 
enemies. But they would be shooting at 
her papa, the prince, too, so her games didn’t 
mix very well. 

Now there came a heavy gust of wind and 
a perfect sheet of rain, just in time to catch 
the men who were coming out of the man- 
hole. They ran to the shelter of a tree leav- 
ing the little tent standing there ; but it didn’t 
stand very long, for another gust of wind 
lifted it and blew it up the street lickety- 
skelter. The men started to run after it. 
No doubt they should have stopped to put 
the lid back on the man-hole, but it was 
raining so hard that they thought no one 

m 


JUST THEN 

was on the street, everybody having sought 
shelter. 

Just then something happened. 

Bumpy bambooney saw it clearly, even 
though it was growing dark. Down the road 
which led from the Park a man came run- 
ning. He wasn’t running with his head 
down and with the easy swing of one who 
was trying to escape the rain, but he was run- 
ning with his head forward, his face up and 
his hands almost reaching out, like a man 
running for his life. Bumpybambooney had 
never seen a man running for his life before, 
but she knew, as if by instinct, that some- 
thing was wrong with the man, and she gave 
a sharp scream, for the man was her papa. 
The next moment the scream rose to a cry 
of terror, for back of her papa she saw a 
pack of coyotes, two lions and a grizzly bear 
all strung along in a row. 

She guessed in a second what had hap- 
pened. Her papa had been hurrying home 
by the short cut through the Park and the 
[ 8 ] 



H 


e was runmn 


g like a man running for his life. 
























SOMETHING HAPPENED 


wind storm had overturned the wagon-cages, 
which were not nearly so strong as the regu- 
lar ones. The cages had broken and the 
animals were out and chasing her papa! 

Bumpybambooney ran to the door and 
pulled it open, flashing on the light. She 
knew her papa was a good runner and if he 
could only reach the porch, run into the open 
door and slam it shut, he would be safe. It 
seemed to her she was only a second run- 
ning to the door, but when she opened it 
and looked out, her papa was nowhere to be 
seen. 

For a moment or two she thought perhaps 
he had run in somewhere, but then she saw 
the hind-quarters of the grizzly bear dis- 
appearing down the man-hole and she knew 
that her papa had fallen down into the sewer 
and the animals had gone down after him. 

Can you think of anything worse than 
that? He couldn’t get back through the 
man-hole, because the coyotes and the lions 
and the big bear were behind him. There 

[ 9 ] 


JUST THEN 


was nothing to do but to go ahead through 
the rushing water. And the sewer ran into 
the lake! There was one lucky thing, how- 
ever, for Mr. Packlepoose, and that was that 
the animals were so close behind him. They 
would most certainly have caught him if 
he had not fallen into the sewer, and when 
the coyotes fell in after him, they landed in 
a heap at the bottom; but he was up and 
splashing along the great, round, high tube 
toward the lake. 

The coyotes snapped and snarled among 
themselves and then the lions landed on top 
pf them. The lions made short work of the 
coyotes but, while they were fighting, Mr. 
Packlepoose got quite a start. As for the 
grizzly bear, he was so big and the dead 
coyotes clogged the bottom of the man-hole 
so much that he couldn’t get through at all, 
but just stuck there with his head in the 
water and drowned. This also helped Mr. 
Packlepoose another way, for the dead 
coyotes and bear held part of the water back, 
[ 10 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


so that they lessened the quantity in the sewer. 
The water rose in the man-hole as if in a well 
and soon overflowed the street, so that when 
the men came back with the tent they found 
the street turned into a river, with a bear’s 
hind-quarters as an island in the middle. As 
for poor Bumpybambooney she was crying 
her eyes out, for she felt sure her papa was 
drowned and eaten by the animals. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Packlepoose was wading, 
slipping, sliding, gasping and swimming in 
the big drain. The lions were growling and 
getting after him as fast as they could. Mr. 
Packlepoose did not expect to get out alive, 
but he was going to keep fighting as long as 
he could, for that is the brave way always. 
Foot by foot he made his way and the lions 
were after him. Yard by yard he went and 
the lions followed behind. Bod by rod he 
struggled and the lions struggled, too. Fur- 
long by furlong, even, for it was a long way 
to the lake. 

The nearer he got to the end the more 

[ 11 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

water there was and at last he was swept 
out of the waters of the sewer into the broad 
open of the lake. A little bit later the lions 
came out, too, and still after him. That’s 
how it happened there were lions in Lake 
Erie. 

The sewer opened into the lake right near 
a pier and the storm had stopped. On the 
pier were some men fishing, for it is said that 
fish bite well in the early evening after a 
storm. What was the amazement of the fish- 
ermen to see a man swimming in the lake, 
pursued by lions. As soon as they could 
regain their senses they shouted to Mr. 
Packlepoose and threw him a rope. He 
grabbed it and they pulled him out onto the 
pier. “ That’s the biggest haul I ever made,” 
said one of the fishermen. 

Nobody threw a rope to the lions and Mr. 
Packlepoose did not even wait to see what 
became of them, but, after thanking the 
fishermen, he hurried home to Bumpybam- 
booney. 


[ 12 ] 


II 


SAY, WHERE DO YOU GO WHEN YOU GO TO SLEEP? 
“GO AWAY!” SAID BUMPYBAMBOONEY AND 
THE TRAIN DIDN’T STOP AT GOSHEN BECAUSE 
THE WIND BLEW BACKWARD 

W HENBumpybambooney got ready 
for bed that night, she was very 
happy. She laid her clothes on 
the foot of her little white bed (though she 
usually managed to kick them onto the floor 
before morning), and she put her shoes on the 
dresser, because she didn’t remember that she 
should have put them in the shoe-bag in the 
closet. She ran up and down on the bed a 
few times, for she quite forgot that her 
mama had told her it would ruin the, 
springs, and she tried to see how far she 
could jump from the bed without falling 
over when the rug slipped on the polished 
floor. 

[ 18 ] 


4 


JUST THEN 


But after a while she snuggled down in 
bed and demanded a story. Then she got 
up to get a drink and then she got up to 
take off her hair-ribbons and then she got 
up to brush her teeth and then she remem- 
bered that she had left Mehitable Ann stand- 
ing on her head in the corner while they had 
been playing circus in the afternoon. As no 
well-bred, self-respecting doll can sleep in 
comfort while standing on her head, Bumpy- 
bambooney got up again to put her in her 
trunk, where, safely on the bottom and with 
plenty of clothes piled to the top, she no 
doubt slept very comfortably indeed. 

Then Bumpybambooney got into bed again 
and said she would go to sleep if her papa 
would tell her a story; so Mr. Packlepoose 
told her the story of Little Philly Phillips of 
Philadelphia. 

By the time the story was finished, Bumpy- 
bambooney was fast asleep. Little did she 
dream, if she dreamed at all, that the next 
morning she would tell her papa to “ Go 
[ 14 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


away ! ” Where do you suppose children 
go when they go to sleep? Some people 
say they do not go any place, but, if so, 
why aren’t they always the same when they 
wake up as when they go to sleep? 

Sometimes you are tired and cross when 
you go to sleep and you wake up laughing. 
Sometimes you are good-humored when you 
go to sleep and you wake up cross. Now, 
if you haven’t been anywhere, or done any- 
thing, or seen anyone, why shouldn’t you be 
exactly the same when you awake as when 
you go to sleep? 

Bumpy bambooney was very sleepy the next 
morning when her papa kissed her and told 
her it was time to get dressed for breakfast 
and for school. The little girl hunched up 
on her hands and knees and tried to open 
her eyes. It was a bleak and cloudy morn- 
ing and that didn’t make her feel any better, 
so she flopped over and let her eyes go shut 
again. “ Come, Bumpybambooney,” said 
Mr. Packlepoose, turning down the clothes 
[ 15 ] 


JUST THEN 


for the cool morning air to strike her. The 
little girl curled up into a ball and said: 
“ Go ’way, papa, go ’way! ” 

Mr. Packlepoose laughed at her and after 
a while he succeeded in getting her out of 
bed, but she didn’t feel a bit good and it took 
her the longest time to get her clothes on. 
When it came to washing she just dipped 
her fingers in the basin and rubbed a little 
ring around her nose and said she was done. 

So her papa took a wash-rag and wet it 
good and put soap on it and washed his little 
girl’s face and neck and ears. “Go ’way!” 
screamed the little girl, “ the soap’s running 
through my ears into my eyes ! Go ’way ! ” 

“ All right,” said her papa, as he kept on 
washing her, “I’ll go away this very day. 
Then you’ll be sorry.” 

“I shan't be sorry. Go ’way!” cried 
Bumpybambooney. 

Mr. Packlepoose was very quiet for the 
rest of the early morning. As soon as break- 
fast was finished, his little girl came around 
[ 16 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

the table and kissed him and her mama, and 
started to school. Mr. Packlepoose called 
her back and kissed her again, saw that she 
had her rubbers and her umbrella, and said: 
“ Good-by.” 

When she came home at noon, he was no- 
where to be seen. “Where’s papa?” she 
asked. 

“ You told him to go away,” answered her 
mama. 

“ But I didn’t honest truly mean it,” said 
the little girl, in dismay. 

“ But he’s gone,” answered her mama. 

If Bumpybambooney had known where 
her papa was at that moment she would have 
been frightened, for, as I figure it, it was 
just about the time the Big Wind blew back- 
ward. After Bumpybambooney had gone to 
school, Mr. Packlepoose had kissed Mrs. 
Hockamaboury good-by and had hurried 
down to the Union Station. “ Who’s Mrs. 
Hockamaboury? ” did you ask? She was 
Bumpybambooney’s mother and that was the 
[ 17 ] 


JUST THEN 


funny name the little girl had given her. Of 
course she should have been called Mrs. 
Packlepoose, or else Mr. Packlepoose should 
have been Mr. Hockamaboury, but Bumpy- 
bambooney never thought of that. 

There was a train standing in the station 
all ready to go. The whistle blew and the 
bell rang and this is what they said: — 

“ Whoot, toot! ding, dong! 

If you’re coming with us, come right 
along. 

Ding, dong! whoot, toot! 

If you’re coming with us, you’d bet- 
ter scoot.” 

So Mr. Packlepoose climbed aboard and I 
think he had bought a ticket only as far as 
Goshen, intending to come back the next 
day. To be sure, I never saw the ticket, be- 
cause a gray-faced man with spectacles and 
gold braid came around pretty soon, saying, 

“ Tickets, tickets ! a red one, a blue one ; 

Give me an old one, I’ll give you a new 
one.” 


[ 18 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Mr. Packlepoose gave up his ticket and the 
wheels ran along the rails singing merrily: — 

“ Lickety click, lickety, click, 

Here’s a boy as bad as Nick; 

Lickety, click, here’s a stick; 

Hit him a lick and hit him quick.” 

I have no idea what boy was meant, unless 
it was the boy who got on at Toledo. He had 
light red hair, so light that it looked almost 
pink, and his face was so freckled that it was 
almost like a buckwheat cake. He had little, 
round, blue eyes, a wide, flat nose, which 
seemed to be trying to see how close it could 
cuddle down to his face, and when he grinned 
it showed where his teeth were out. 

He grinned at Mr. Packlepoose and Mr. 
Packlepoose smiled at him. Then he sat 
down by the side of Mr. Packlepoose, swing- 
ing his feet and looking straight ahead. Once 
in a while he would half turn and grin at 
Mr. Packlepoose, but would look away again 
very quickly if he thought Mr. Packlepoose 
[ 19 ] 


JUST THEN 


was watching him. At last he said, “ My 
name’s Sonnybud and I like popcorn.” 

Mr. Packlepoose answered, “ They call me 
Mr. Packlepoose and I don’t like ants in the 
marmalade.” 

Just then the train-boy came through and 
called: — 

“ Chocolate’s bitter and sugar is sweet; 

Mix ’em together, they’re easy to eat. 

Lemon drops, caramels, don’t let ’em spoil! 

You’ll like ’em better than cod liver oil.” 

“ If I had some money, I’d buy you some 
chocolates,” said Sonnybud. 

“ I’ll lend you a dime,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose, so Sonnybud bought the chocolates, 
but forgot to give Mr. Packlepoose any. 

After a while the brakeman stuck his head 
in at the door and called: — 

“ Goshen! Goshen! 

Everybody out for Goshen. 

Don’t leave your wraps, 

Don’t forget your traps, 

And don’t fall in the ocean.” 

[ 20 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Now as there was nothing but dry land in 
sight, this seemed rather silly, and yet it 
proved to be not so silly after all, for just 
then something happened. 

The day had been getting darker all the 
time and a great dark-violet cloud had ap- 
peared in the West. It grew larger and 
larger and spread over the whole sky, and 
out of that cloud came a big wind. “ Whir-r- 
r-r-z-z-z-z-z-z ! ” blew the wind and everything 
loose leaped up before it as if trying to get 
out of the way. 

Maybe it was the same wind which had 
been blowing the night before, only I think 
that wind was blowing Westward and I am 
almost sure this one was blowing Eastward. 
Maybe it was the same wind coming back. 
Yes, that’s it, most likely. It had been in 
such a hurry the day before and now it was 
in a greater hurry to get back, for it was 
blowing and going faster than it had before. 

As the train-man called “Goshen!” and 
the engine had called “ Whoot toot!” and 
[ 21 ] 


JUST THEN 


the engine-man had pulled the lever to stop 
the train, you would naturally have expected 
the train to stop. It did stop, too, but hardly 
for a second, for just as Mr. Packlepoose 
and Sonnybud got up to get out, they found 
that the train was going faster than ever, 
but going the wrong way. You see the wind 
had caught it and was blowing it along the 
rails in spite of all the engine-man could do. 
Stronger and harder blew the wind and 
faster and faster the train went, faster than 
it ever had before, or ever will again, I dare 
say. It passed stations as if they had been 
mile-posts and all the while poor little Bumpy- 
bambooney was at home wishing that she had 
never told her papa to go away. Little did 
she know how fast he was going away. And 
he kept on going, until the train came to 
New York. 

Of course it couldn’t go any further than 
that, for that’s the end of the line. And what 
do you think? The gray-faced man with the 
glittering glasses and the gilt braid tried to 
[ 22 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


make Mr. Packlepoose pay his fare from 
Goshen to New York, but Mr. Packlepoose 
said that he was going to spend his money to 
pay his fare back to Bumpybambooney. 

And Bumpybambooney was at home, so 
sorry she had told her papa to “ Go ’way!” 


[ 23 ] 


Ill 


WELL, WELL! A BIG BLUE ACORN" TRIES TO CATCH 
MR. PACKLEPOOSE. HIDE-AND-SEEK IN A 
HOTEL. IF YOU RUN ALONG THE HOUSE- 
TOPS OF NEW YORK AT NIGHT, SOMEONE MAY 
INVITE YOU DOWN THE SCUTTLE-HOLE 



F course it was dark by the time the 


train reached the Grand Central, so 


Mr. Packlepoose took charge of little 
Sonnybud as he got off the train. 

He found that the next train West started 
from Jersey City and as he had never been 
in New York before and wanted to go across 
the river anyway, he asked a big policeman 
what was the best way to get to the ferry 
and to see a little bit of the city at the same 
time. The big policeman had a head like 
an acorn turned upside down. His hel- 
met looked like the point of the acorn, 
only it was blue. His face looked blue, 


[ 24 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


too, because of the net-work of purple 
veins running through it, and it dropped 
straight down the sides and bulged over at 
the jaws and chin, like the cup of the acorn. 
He looked hard at Mr. Packlepoose and he 
looked hard at Sonnybud and then he said, 
“ Yous kin go out on the street an’ take a 
surface-car, or yous kin go up on the roof 
an’ take the Illyvated, or yous kin go down 
cellar an’ take the subway, but I t’ink yous 
had better take the patrol wagon.” 

“ The patrol wagon!” said Mr. Packle- 
poose, smiling, for he thought the Blue Acorn 
was joking him. 

“ Yes, the hurry-up cart, for I’m t’inkin’ 
yous is the kidnapper from Injianny.” 

“ Oh, no,” said Sonnybud, “ this isn’t a 
kidnapper. This is Mr. Packlepoose and we 
were blown away and he’s going to put me 
on another train, so we can get home again.” 

“ Oho ! ” said the Blue Acorn cunningly, 
“ that’s a likely story. Yous kin fool the 
kid all right, but yous can’t fool me, you , 
[ 25 ] 


JUST THEN 


Mr. Packlepoose. Packlepoose! ho! ho! I’ll 
bet ten dollars agin a brass nickel that’s not 
yer name at all, at all.” 

“ Of course it isn’t my real name,” said 
Mr. Packlepoose laughingly. 

“What did I tell yous!” cried the acorn 
policeman. “ That’s the way wid all yous 
crooks. One honest name is niver enough 
for yous. I’ll take charge of the kid an’ it’s 
him to go back to his payrints, but it’s the 
hurry-up wagon for yous.” 

Nothing that could be said would convince 
the Blue Acorn that Mr. Packlepoose wasn’t 
a kidnapper. Now, Mr. Packlepoose knew 
that Sonnybud would be in safe hands if 
left with the policeman and that his people 
would be notified and he would be sent home 
as fast as though he himself took him there, 
but he didn’t want to be arrested himself. 
It isn’t pleasant to ride through the streets 
in a patrol wagon, to be locked up all night 
and to be dragged into police court in the 
morning, no matter how innocent you are. 

[ 26 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


But above all, he wanted to start back to 
Bumpybambooney and he wanted to start on 
the next train. 

So Mr. Packlepoose decided to do what 
perhaps he ought not to have done. He 
stooped down and picked up Sonnybud and 
said to the Blue Acorn, “ Well, here he is ! ” 
and thrust the boy into the policeman’s arms. 
Perhaps you have noticed that when anyone 
thrusts something at you, you naturally take 
it, whether you want to or not, and that is 
just what the Blue Acorn did. As the police- 
man received the boy in his arms, Mr. Packle- 
poose turned and darted out of the door of 
the Station onto Forty-second Street. He 
had a perfect right to run out onto Forty- 
second Street, if he wanted to. 

The Blue Acorn was so confused for a 
moment, he didn’t know what to do. Then 
he yelled to one of the station ushers to 
“ Mind the b’y,” set Sonnybud down and 
ran after Mr. Packlepoose, yelling, “ Stop the 
kidnapper!” at every jump. 

[ 27 ] 


JUST THEN 


He was fat and heavy and he couldn’t 
run as fast as Mr. Packlepoose, who was 
across the street almost before the big police- 
man got started. 

As I told you, Mr. Packlepoose had never 
been in New York, but he knew that if he 
wanted to get away it would never do to 
run along the street, for someone would stop 
him before he had gone a block; so he ran 
into the doors of the Grand Union hotel. As 
soon as he was inside, he stopped running, 
so as not to attract attention, but walked 
briskly to one of the elevators which was just 
going up. As the elevator door slammed 
shut and the car shot upward, the Blue 
Acorn came into the hotel door on Park 
Avenue, and another policeman with him. 
“Where did the kidnapper go?” demanded 
the Blue Acorn, staring around wildly. 

It happened that the house detective had 
been sitting in the lobby of the hotel and 
had noticed Mr. Packlepoose’s haste, but had 
thought nothing of it until he saw the 
[ 28 ] 



S.C..C. 


He was fat and heavy and he couldn t run fast. 



' 


4 







SOMETHING HAPPENED 


policeman. Then he guessed that the man 
who had gone up in the elevator was the 
man wanted. He at once got all the bell-* 
boys and porters he could find and they 
crowded into the next elevator after Mr. 
Packlepoose. 

“ What floor? ” the elevator boy had asked 
of Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Top,” answered Mr. Packlepoose, think- 
ing he might as well go as far as possible. 

When he stepped out and the elevator had 
started down, so that he was alone, he hardly 
knew what to do next, but as he could hear 
shouts floating up the shaft, he knew they 
were after him, so he ran around the corner 
of the hall-way at once. You could hardly 
imagine a better place for a game of hide- 
and-seek than the hallways of the Grand 
Union. It is an old hotel and new parts 
have been added from time to time, so that 
the halls are full of unexpected turns and 
corners and pockets and steps up and down 
and around. Mr. Packlepoose could have 
[ 29 ] 


JUST THEN 


hidden there a long time and have kept the 
big policeman “ it,” but now that there were 
so many helpers, it was hardly a fair game. 
Besides Mr. Packlepoose didn’t want to play 
a game, nor did he want to stay in the 
hotel. His idea was to go to another elevator, 
or to the stairway, and so get out of the 
hotel and on the way to the ferry and 
Bumpybambooney. 

Pretty soon, however, there were police- 
men and detectives and bell-boys and porters 
chasing him and at last he was forced to 
run down a side hall, which had no other out- 
let. He could hear foot-steps coming both 
ways along the main hall, so he knew that 
he couldn’t go back, and he also knew that 
if they looked down the side hall, where he 
was, he would be found. And if he were 
found, he was lost! 

There was a room door at the end of the 
hall, with a red light over it. Of course that 
meant that this door led to a fire-escape, but 
Mr. Packlepoose did not like to open the 
[ 30 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


doors of the rooms because the people might 
be in them. And if they weren’t in them 
the doors would be locked. 

But the foot-steps were coming nearer and 
Mr. Packlepoose just had to do something. 
He tried the door with the red light over it 
and, to his great joy, it was unlocked. Just 
then a bell-boy appeared at the end of the 
hall and yelled, “ There he is! ” 

Mr. Packlepoose jumped into the room, 
slammed the door and locked it. “ Ow! ow! ” 
shrieked Somebody, by which Mr. Packle- 
poose learned that Somebody was in the room, 
that Somebody had gone to bed and that 
Somebody was frightened. Mr. Packlepoose 
did not stop to see who Somebody was, but 
ran to the window and threw it open. The 
bell-boy and the Blue Acorn were pounding- 
on the door. Mr. Packlepoose stepped out 
onto the fire-escape and closed the window. 
He had hoped that the fire-escape led all 
the way down to the ground and that he 
could get down unseen, but to his dismay 
[ 31 ] 


JUST THEN 


he saw that it only ran to a roof a little bit 
lower down. Once there, he would have to 
find another fire-escape and there were so 
many dark shadows and uneven places, he 
was sure the policemen would be on the roof 
after him before he had gone far and they 
would yell to someone on the street below to 
catch him as he dropped down. 

As Mr. Packlepoose went down to the roof 
below, the Somebody in the bed got up and 
unlocked the door. Then she bounded back 
in bed and covered up her head. “ Where’s 
the kidnapper?” yelled the Blue Acorn 
bursting into the room. 

“ Out of the window,” answered Somebody 
under the clothes. 

Mr. Packlepoose ran along the roof and 
though he got something of a start, the 
policemen and the detective and the porters 
were not very far behind him. Two or three 
times, confused by the darkness, he nearly 
fell down into the court. Once he ran square 
up against a brick wall. 

[ 32 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“Now we’ve got him!” yelled the Blue 
Acorn. 

But there was a ladder against the wall, 
which led to another roof. Mr. Packlepoose 
ran to the ladder and clambered up it in a 
jiffy, dropping down flat on the roof above. 

As he reached the top the Blue Acorn and 
his followers reached the bottom. “ Stop, 
thief! ” yelled the Blue Acorn and in another 
minute he was nearly up the ladder and three 
or four of the others just behind him. Then 
Mr. Packlepoose jumped up and seized the 
top of the ladder and overturned it, dumping 
the lot of them in a heap at the bottom. 
Perhaps it was wrong, but they looked so 
funny that Mr. Packlepoose couldn’t help 
laughing. 

He now found himself on a stretch of almost 
level roofs, one adjoining the other, so that 
he ran on and on. But of course he could not 
get outside the block, for there was no way 
to get across the street. The Blue Acorn 
and his squad were not long delayed. They 
[ 33 ] 


JUST THEN 


at once replaced the ladder and followed 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

He tried to dodge them by running in the 
shadows, where there were any, but they kept 
him in view and very soon they were close 
behind him again. There were no more lad- 
ders to run up or down, no doors to dodge 
into, and it seemed as if Mr. Packlepoose 
would surely be caught in another minute. 

He dodged behind a chimney for a second’s 
rest and just then something happened. 

Of course you know that the people of 
New York must sometimes get up on top 
of their houses, if only to repair the roofs, 
and perhaps you know that on every flat 
roof of the old style of houses is an opening 
called a scuttle. As Mr. Packlepoose stepped 
behind the chimney, the lid of a scuttle was 
cautiously lifted and a woman’s voice called 
softly, “ Here you are! Quick! quick! ” 

Was Mr. Packlepoose surprised? Indeed 
he was. But he saw it was his only chance 
of escape and he squeezed down the scuttle 
[ 34 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


immediately and you may be sure he did not 
forget to hook it tightly behind him. A 
moment and he heard the heavy tread of the 
Blue Acorn and the patter-patter of the 
others pass over the roof. Presently there 
was a knocking at the scuttle and Mr. 
Packlepoose’s heart sank, for he thought the 
Blue Acorn must have seen his escape. “ Let 
me in!” came a hoarse voice through the 
scuttle. Mr. Packlepoose could hear it, be- 
cause his head was close up under the scuttle, 
but the woman who had let him in had re- 
treated somewhere. 

Another minute and he heard the Blue 
Acorn and his crowd come tramping slowly 
back. The man on the outside of the scuttle 
heard them too and called “ Let me in, I say. 
Let me in.” Then Mr. Packlepoose heard 
the shout of the Blue Acorn, “There he is! 
there he is ! ” 

There was a hurry of feet, a short struggle 
and a few cries and then all the foot-steps 
died away and there was silence. 

[ 35 ] 


JUST THEN 


Mr. Packlepoose felt his hand seized by 
the house-maid who had admitted him. 
“ Shh! ” she said, “ come this way.” 

There was nothing else for him to do, so 
he went. As soon as the light fell on him, 
the woman gave a hushed scream. “ Where’s 
Bill?” she demanded. 

“ Unless I am greatly mistaken,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, “ Bill is now in the hands of 
the police.” 

At first the woman seemed angry, then 
afraid. Then she looked at Mr. Packlepoose 
again and seemed rather pleased. “ So he 
sent you in his place?” she said. “Well, 
you’ll look better ’n him. Of course you 
know all about the job? ” 

“Not a thing,” answered Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

“ Well, if that ain’t like Bill,” said the 
house-maid scornfully. “ And you ain’t even 
lit up.” 

Mr. Packlepoose understood by this that 
she meant he did not have evening clothes on, 
[ 36 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


but he only said, “ He didn’t even tell me 
your name.” 

“Janet,” said the house-maid. “Now 
listen. We’ll have to hurry, ’cause you’re 
late. Old Humphrey’s girl, Miss Minnie, is 
gettin’ married to-night. There’s lots of peo- 
ple and lots of presents and some of ’em 
are small and worth takin’ — the presents, I 
mean — diamonds and pearls and such truck. 
There’s detectives to keep any of ’em from 
gettin’ away. And you’re a detective.” 

“ I see,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ But you can’t be a detective in a swell 
wedding in those clothes,” said Janet. “Wait! 
I’ll go get you a suit of young Mr. Hum- 
phrey’s. It’ll just about fit.” 

So saying she disappeared. Once more 
Mr. Packlepoose was in a position where he 
hardly knew what to do. He certainly 
wasn’t going to steal Mr. Humphrey’s clothes 
and yet, if he went downstairs among the 
guests in his everyday suit, he would be 
noticed at once. How could he explain his 
[ 37 ] 


JUST THEN 


presence in the house? If he told the truth, 
that Janet had admitted him, she would be 
discovered as a thief and he would be thought 
to be her partner in guilt. If he explained 
that he did not know Janet, but came through 
the roof to escape the police, that would make 
matters worse. He wished he were on the 
roof again, even if the Blue Acorn got him. 

At last, he concluded that the best thing 
was to go ahead like an innocent man and 
let what would happen. So, without waiting 
for Janet's return, he walked calmly down 
the stairs. On the fourth floor he met no 
one. On the third were dressing-rooms with 
men and maids who glanced curiously at him, 
but he looked straight ahead and walked on. 
The second floor was crowded with guests 
and most of them were going in and out of 
the rooms where the gifts were displayed. 
Mr. Packlepoose glanced in and saw a couple 
of men lounging around, who did not seem to 
be quite like the others and who looked at the 
rest out of the sides of their eyes. “ They’re 
[ 38 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


the detectives/’ thought Mr. Packlepoose and 
tried to look as much like them as possible. 

As he was going down the fourth flight 
to the ground floor and was thinking that 
maybe he could get out of the front door, 
he was met by an elderly gentleman coming 
out of the supper room. He had an air of 
owning the place and he wore jeweled rings 
on his fingers, a heavy gold fob and two 
diamonds in his shirt front. He glanced 
sharply at Mr. Packlepoose’s clothes and 
Mr. Packlepoose gave him a look out of the 
corner of his eye and a slight bow. 

“You’re the outside man?” said the jew- 
eled gentleman. 

“ Mr. Humphrey, I believe,” returned Mr. 
Packlepoose at a guess. 

“Where have you been?” said Mr. Hum- 
phrey crossly. “ Don’t you know the bridal 
couple are to catch the Chicago Limited and 
you’re to go in the auto which carries the 
gifts? ” 

Mr. Packlepoose took a deep breath, for 
[ 39 ] 


JUST THEN 


this was just what he wanted. “ Shall I help 
bring them down?” he asked. 

“ They are down,” said Mr. Humphrey 
sharply. “ Of course they’re only taking the 
smaller trinkets. The chauffeur is waiting 
for you.” 

Mr. Humphrey stepped to the door, where 
a large touring-car was standing. A police- 
man stood by to guard it, a maid sat within 
and the chauffeur was at the wheel. “ Now, 
Foster,” said Mr. Humphrey to the chauf- 
feur, “ don’t mind the speed limit, but hurry. 
Jones,” he said to the maid, “ you scatter the 
trinkets around the state-room and make it 
look like home.” Then he turned to Mr. 
Packlepoose and said, suddenly, “ What were 
you doing upstairs?” 

Luckily for Mr. Packlepoose, the car was 
just starting. He swung in and called back, 
“ I was visiting Janet!” and left the indig- 
nant Mr. Humphrey standing there. 

When the car reached the ferry, Mr. Pack- 
lepoose went to the telegraph office and sent 
[ 40 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


word to his wife and to Bumpy bambooney, 
who was grieving at home because she had 
told her papa to go away. 

“ Just starting for home,” the telegram 
read. “ Back to-morrow.” 


[ 41 ] 


IV 


DID YOU EVER SEE A SEA-MONSTER WITH ONE 
RED EYE, ONE GREEN EYE AND A NOSE WHICH 
POKES INTO FERRY-BOATS? THE BLUE ACORN 
FINDS MR. PACKLEPOOSE AND MR. PACKLE- 
POOSE JUMPS INTO THE AIR 

Y OU may be sure Bumpybambooney 
and her mother were glad to get Mr. 
Packlepoose’s telegram. They were 
also very much surprised to receive it from 
New York, for they thought he had gone the 
other way, as indeed he had. 

They had not been at all worried, for, as 
I told you, they had not expected him back 
till the next day. Bumpybambooney had 
been counting the hours until she could tell 
her papa that she was sorry she had told him 
to “ Go away,” but Mr. Packlepoose did not 
return the next day and this was the reason. 
When he went aboard the ferry at Twenty- 

[ 42 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


third Street the night had turned very dark 
and foggy. Out upon the river the fog was 
so dense that you could not see the lights of 
the city and the boats which passed seemed 
to come up out of nowhere and melt away 
into nothingness, like gray ghosts. There 
was a constant blowing of fog-whistles and 
they sounded as dismal as if the boats them- 
selves were feeling badly. 

Perhaps the wisest thing for Mr. Packle- 
poose to have done would have been to stay 
with the auto until the boat reached Jersey 
City, but he wanted to see the boat and as 
much of the river view as could be seen in 
the darkness and the fog. “ Good-night, 
Foster; good-night, Miss Jones,” he said. 
“ I’m much obliged for my ride to the ferry.” 

“ I beg your pardon, sir,” said Foster, in 
a low tone, as Mr. Packlepoose started away, 
“ but I don’t think you ought to leave the 
machine. The ferry is a very bad place for 
thieves, I’ve heard, especially in the crush 
getting ashore. I’ve got the machine to mind, 
[ 43 ] 


JUST THEN 

you know, and detective work isn’t much in 
Jones’s line.” 

“No?” answered Mr. Packlepoose, laugh- 
ing. “ Well, it isn’t in mine either, you 
know,” and he walked away. 

When Foster heard this, he was frightened. 
The more he thought of it, the more he was 
sure that Mr. Packlepoose was a thief in dis- 
guise and that he had gone to find his fellows, 
so they could all attack the auto together and 
carry away everything they could lay their 
hands on. 

“ Say,” he whispered to Miss Jones, “ the 
governor has been flim-flammed. He’s gone 
and hired a crook for a detective. You go 
see if there’s a copper on this boat.” 

So Miss Jones ran around the boat till 
she found a policeman and brought him to 
Foster, who told his story. “You come wid 
me,” said the policeman. “ If he’s the real 
t’ing I’ll know him, and if he’s a crook I 
want to get my hands on him.” 

So they began a careful search of the boat 
[ 44 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


and came upon Mr. Packlepoose standing 
near the rail on the upper deck. The police- 
man touched him on the shoulder, and Mr. 
Packlepoose turned and looked into the face 
of — of whom do you think? Of the Blue 
Acorn ! 

You see when they had captured Bill on 
top of Mr. Humphrey’s house, they thought 
they had the man they had been chasing, but 
when they got him down into the hotel, the 
Blue Acorn saw that it was not the man he 
had seen with Sonnybud in the depot. The 
Blue Acorn was very much disgusted to think 
that Mr. Packlepoose had got away and more 
than ever sure that he was a very dangerous 
criminal to have escaped when escape seemed 
impossible. He went straight to his precinct 
and told his story and when the lieutenant 
at the station heard that Mr. Packlepoose’s 
first question had been as to how he could 
reach the Twenty- third Street ferry, he at 
once sent the Blue Acorn to watch the trains 
at Jersey City. 


JUST THEN 


The Blue Acorn had watched all the foot 
passengers who went aboard the ferry, but 
he never thought of Mr. Packlepoose going 
aboard in an auto and so he had missed him. 
Then he had gone aboard to cross to Jersey 
City himself to see if he could catch Mr. 
Packlepoose when taking the train. 

“Ho! ho!” said the Blue Acorn. “Is it 
you, Mr. Packlepoose, you kidnapper, you. 
Pretendin’ to be a detective, oho!” 

Now wasn’t that hard luck for Mr. Packle- 
poose? He knew that if the Blue Acorn 
arrested him now and told his story in police 
court the next morning, sustained by the 
testimony of Foster, Miss Jones, Mr. Hum- 
phrey and possibly of Janet, it would go 
hard with him. 

And there was no way of escape. There 
stood Foster and the Blue Acorn in front 
of him. Even if he could run away, they 
would catch him as soon as the boat reached 
Jersey City. His description was probably 
telephoned to every station. If he jumped 
[ 46 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


into the river, he would be run down by 
some boat and drowned, no matter how good 
a swimmer he was. There seemed no pos- 
sible way to get out of it and Mr. Packle- 
poose gave himself up for lost. Wouldn’t 
Bumpybambooney be sorry if she knew? 

Just then something happened. 

As I told you, it was very foggy and the 
big boats seemed to come from nowhere and 
sink away into nothingness. There was a 
sudden clanging of bells and shrieking of 
whistles and shouts of men. A ferry-boat 
coming from the opposite way suddenly 
appeared right in front of the one they were 
on. In another second there would have been 
a collision, but the ferry going to New York 
veered off to starboard and the ferry going 
to Jersey City reversed its engines. This was 
bad enough, but worse was to follow. As 
the ferry they were on swung to the right 
and almost- stopped, there was a deep hoarse 
roar from behind. There was the glare of 
lights, a green eye and a red eye, as of some 
[ 47 ] 


JUST THEN 


great sea monster. Then there was a jar 
and the big boat from behind grazed the 
ferry. Luckily it did not hit squarely, or it 
would have gone through the sides of the 
ferry and sunk it, but the shock was enough 
to throw the Blue Acorn, Foster and Mr. 
Packlepoose in a heap together, Mr. Packle- 
poose landing on top. 

I said that the red and green lights looked 
like eyes. This would make the bow of the 
boat its nose and perhaps you have noticed 
that in the very tip of the nose of the boat are 
two holes, like nostrils. These are called 
hawse-holes, I believe, and the big heavy 
chains of the anchor hang from them. 

Mr. Packlepoose jumped up from where 
he had fallen, sprang to the rail of the ferry- 
boat and jumped into the chains of the big 
steamer (which was just swinging away) al- 
most without knowing what he was doing. 

When the Blue Acorn and the chauffeur 
looked for him, he was gone. They searched 
the boat from end to end, they watched every 
[ 48 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

one who got off at Jersey City and they 
watched the trains, but no Mr. Packlepoose 
appeared. 

The Blue Acorn was the maddest police- 
man you ever saw. “ I do believe that felly 
is a spook/’ said he. “ That’s free times 
I’ve had me hands on him and he got away 
iv’ry time.” 

Meanwhile Mr. Packlepoose was in the 
chains of the big boat steaming out to sea and 
Bumpybambooney was at home, little know- 
ing that her papa was indeed going away. 


[ 49 ] 


V 


CHUBBY CHARLIE FINDS A HOODOO AND DEAR! 
DEAR! THE BLUE ACORN FINDS MR. PACKLE- 
POOSE A LONG WAY AWAY, WHILE THE BIG 
BOAT GETS ITS NOSE FROZEN 

W HEN Mr. Packlepoose leaped for 
the ocean steamship and landed 
in the chains, he clung desper- 
ately to them and huddled against the side of 
the boat. In the fog and the darkness he 
was not seen and for a while he did not want 
to be seen. For the first few seconds he 
thought the angry Blue Acorn would shoot 
him and then he thought that if they should 
put him off the big steamer and send him 
back to New York by the pilot-boat, or 
otherwise, he would surely fall into the hands 
of the police after all and his last desperate 
effort to get away would only make them 
firmer in the belief that he was a dangerous 

[ 50 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


criminal. They might put him in jail, for 
he didn’t know how long, or at least hold 
him for trial and no one could tell when he 
ever would get back to Bumpybambooney 
at that rate. 

So Mr. Packlepoose clung to the chains for 
a long time and then climbed up as best he 
could and fell upon the forward deck. The 
lookout, stationed in the bow, was a sailor 
called Chubby Charlie. He was broad and 
thick and not very tall. His legs were bowed, 
his back was bent, his arms were like the 
limbs of trees and his hands were like hooks. 
His head was like a cabbage, his nose like a 
beet and his whiskers under his chin were 
like sprays of spinach. When he saw Mr. 
Packlepoose he bawled out, “ Something just 
come aboard, sir ! ” 

“What is it?” asked the captain. 

“ It looks like a man, sir, but it might be 
a ’oodoo, sir.” 

“A man!” cried the astonished captain. 
“ Where’d he come from? ” 

[ 51 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ Over the bow, sir.” 

“ Send him aft.” 

“ Aye, aye, sir,” said the sailor, aloud, and 
then he muttered, “ and very glad to get rid 
of the ’oodoo, sir.” 

So Mr. Packlepoose was sent to the cap- 
tain and found a grizzled man, with stern 
blue eyes and wide beard blown over his 
chest. 

“ Stowaway, eh?” said the captain. 

“No more than you are, captain,” answered 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

“Are you entered on the passenger-list?” 
asked the captain. 

“ No, but I expect you to instruct the 
purser to enter me.” 

“ Oh, indeed,” said the captain, harshly, 
“and why?” 

“ Because it’s really your fault that I am 
here.” 

“How’s that?” asked the captain, im- 
patiently. 

“ Well,” answered Mr. Packlepoose, coolly, 
[ 52 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ you see you bumped into me before I 
bumped into you.” 

The captain cooled off at this and burst 
into a grin. He understood that Mr. 
Packlepoose had got aboard during the near- 
collision with the ferry-boat and it tickled 
him the way Mr. Packlepoose explained it. 

So Mr. Packlepoose was given the free- 
dom of the boat and soon became good friends 
with the captain, the crew and the passengers, 
all except Chubby Charlie, who insisted on 
calling him “ the ’oodoo,” and vowed he had 
brought the fog, had almost brought a colli- 
sion and would do them some horrible harm 
yet. 

Mr. Packlepoose told the captain all about 
Bumpybambooney and as the captain had 
little boys and girls of his own, he was very 
much entertained and interested. “ I’m glad 
that you told me,” he said. “ I’ll have your 
accident reported to New York and New 
York can wire your home, so Bumpybam- 
booney will know where you are.” 

[ 53 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ That’s very kind of you,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, but he wished he had kept 
quiet and with very good reason. The broad- 
bearded captain reported to New York by 
wireless how Mr. Packlepoose came over the 
bows of the vessel and the story was such a 
good one that it got into the newspapers. 
The World printed a column story about the 
man who had been bumped aboard an ocean 
liner and one paper even printed imaginary 
pictures of Mr. Packlepoose and Bumpy- 
bambooney. It was those names which 
did it. The Blue Acorn would never have 
got it through his helmet if it had 
not been for those ridiculous names, but 
when he read those, he at once rushed 
to his precinct and told his story of 
how the kidnapper had escaped from the 
ferry-boat and was now on a boat bound 
for Liverpool. 

And then the police sent a cable message 
to England to arrest Mr. Packlepoose as 
soon as the steamship arrived. And they sent 
[ 54 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


a wireless message to the captain of the 
Titania to keep a strict guard over Mr. 
Packlepoose to see that he didn’t get away 
again. The captain was both surprised and 
shocked to receive this message. In his 
direct, blunt way, he sent for Mr. Packle- 
poose at once. “ Good-evening, captain,” 
said Mr. Packlepoose, “ it’s nasty weather 
on deck.” 

“ Yes,” said the captain, “ the fog has 
fallen again, but if I have to put you in the 
cage, you won’t mind whether it’s sunshine 
or dark.” 

“ The cage? What* do you mean? ” asked 
the bewildered Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Aren’t you Packlepoose, the kidnapper? ” 
asked the captain. “ Aren’t the New York 
police after you on the charge of breaking 
into the house of one Humphrey? Aren’t 
you accused of impersonating a detective and 
resisting arrest? ” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ but I’m 
not guilty of any of those things, except 

[ 55 ] 


JUST THEN 

that I did resist arrest, just as you would 
have done.” 

“ Maybe so, maybe so,” said the captain. 
“ I haven’t time to waste in talking to you. 
If you will promise to behave yourself during 
the voyage and deliver yourself peaceably 
into the hands of the English police at Liver- 
pool, I’ll let you go. If you don’t, I’ll have 
you locked up.” 

“ I shan’t make any such promise,” said 
Mr. Packlepoose. “ I’ve done nothing to be 
hounded by the police.” 

“ Very well, very well,” said the captain. 
He turned away but in a minute or two a 
petty officer appeared and with him was the 
big sailor called Chubby Charlie. “ Come 
along,” said the officer and Chubby Charlie 
grinned and laid his great hook of a hand 
on Mr. Packlepoose’s shoulder. 

Just then something happened. 

There was a cry on deck, a few short, 
sharp words. The throb of the engines 
stopped, the ship gave a lurch out of her 
[• 56 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


course and then there was a shock and the 
ship stopped. “We’re wrecked! we’re 
wrecked! ” cried the passengers and instantly 
there was a panic. Men shouted, women 
screamed, and everybody rushed on deck. 
There they found that the ship had run into 
a huge ice-berg. 

The ice-berg was so large that the ship 
looked like a row-boat alongside of it. 
Luckily the ship had not run squarely against 
it, or it would have been smashed and sunk. 
Instead it had run up and into a huge crack 
in the berg which had broken the shock. 

When the first alarm was over, all hands 
set to work to see what could be done to get 
the vessel free. The stern of the boat lay in 
the *water, but though the screw was reversed, 
the engines could not pull her off. There 
was nothing to do but to lighten the boat and 
the crew worked all night. The fog lifted 
during the night and the next day was clear 
and bright. The big berg was slowly drift- 
ing southward, carrying the big steamer in 
[ 57 ] 


JUST THEN 


its grip. The great danger was that the 
berg would turn over, for of course the water 
was melting the ice down below and just as 
soon as the bottom below water became 
lighter than the top above water, the berg 
would turn over, carrying the ship and all 
the passengers with it. 

As for Mr. Packlepoose, however, he could 
see no reason why they should not get some 
enjoyment out of their novel experience, for 
he had never been upon an ice-mountain 
floating in the middle of the ocean in sum- 
mer before. So he started to climb to the top 
of the berg and Chubby Charlie followed 
after. 

“Why are you tagging me?” asked Mr. 
Packlepoose, but Chubby Charlie only 
grinned a grin that looked like a scowl and 
kept on. As he would not answer, Mr. 
Packlepoose paid no more attention to him. 
Besides it was a hard climb up the ice-berg 
and he needed all of his breath. When he 
reached the top, what do you suppose Mr. 

[ 58 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Packlepoose found there? An Eskimo sledge 
stuck fast in the ice. There were thongs of 
skin hanging to it, where the dogs had been 
harnessed, and there was an Eskimo spear, 
or harpoon, used by the Eskimos in hunting. 
It had drifted away down from the frozen 
North on the ice-berg and some poor Eskimo 
was even then, perhaps, mourning the loss 
of his arctic automobile! 

Mr. Packlepoose tried to pull the sledge 
loose, but it would not budge. Just then 
came the long whistle from the steamer, the 
signal for all hands to return. Mr. Packle- 
poose turned to hurry down, for he was a 
long distance away, but he found his way 
blocked by the sailor, who stood in his path 
like some angry animal. As I told you, he 
was big and broad and thick and tremen- 
dously strong. He seized Mr. Packlepoose 
in his great hooks of hands and thrust him 
down upon the sledge. Before Mr. Packle- 
poose knew what was happening, Chubby 
Charlie had tied his hands behind his back 
[ 59 ] 


JUST THEN 


and tied him to the sledge with the thongs. 
Then he slipped a gag in his mouth, so Mr. 
Packlepoose couldn’t shout, and left him there 
helpless. “ You stay with the hice-berg you 
run us into, you ’oodoo,” said the superstitious 
sailor. Then he made his way down the berg 
alone. 

Mr. Packlepoose could see the passengers 
and crew scramble back upon the ship; could 
see the smoke of the furnaces as the engines 
worked and strained. Then he heard a great 
shout as from all the people and guessed that 
the steamship had got off. Sure enough she 
was and in a short time she had steamed 
away. 

It isn’t pleasant to be bound fast to the top 
of an ice-berg all alone in the middle of the 
Atlantic Ocean, but Mr. Packlepoose had one 
consoling thought. “ Anyway,” said he to 
himself, “ I shan’t be arrested by the Liver- 
pool police and sent back to a New York 
jail.” 


[ 60 ] 


VI 


HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO SLIDE DOWN HILL 
ON AN ARCTIC AUTOMOBILE? OUCH! THE 
BIG, BITEY BEARS ARE COMING AND PRESTO! 
HERE’S A SHIP-LOAD OF MONKEYS 

OU wouldn't expect it to be very 



warm on top of the ice-berg, but it 


was. As the day grew warmer the 


glare from the shining ice seemed to make 
it twice as warm as it beat down upon Mr. 
Packlepoose lying there in the midst of it. 
Mr. Packlepoose was nearly frozen under- 
neath and nearly blistered on top, for he lay 
almost on the ice and at the very tip of the 
ice-mountain. 

Chubby Charlie had tied him well. The 
more Mr. Packlepoose tugged to get loose, 
the tighter the knots became and the more 
the thongs cut into his flesh. He was hungry, 
he was thirsty, he was half-frozen and half' 


[ 61 ] 


JUST THEN 


roasted; and if Bumpybambooney could have 
seen him she would have cried to think she 
had ever told him to go away. All this was 
bad enough, but there was something worse 
to come, for Mr. Packlepoose wasn’t the only 
one on the ice-berg. And the other one was 
hungrier than he! The other one was a 
polar bear. 

Mr. Packlepoose had sunk back from one 
of his struggles, and looking down the side 
of the berg opposite to that which he and 
Chubby Charlie had climbed, he saw some- 
thing yellowy white on the surface of the 
ice. He never would have noticed the thing 
if it hadn’t moved. And he would have 
thought it a patch of snow, but instead of 
sliding down, it was sliding up, up to where he 
lay securely fastened to the sledge. The bear 
had drifted all the way down from the Arctic 
Circle and had been without food for days. 
It would be fiercely hungry and very savage. 
What was Mr. Packlepoose to do? For a 
while he thought there was nothing to do, 
[ 62 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

but to lie still and be eaten. That wasn’t 
very pleasant to think of and still less 
pleasant to have happen. He looked down 
again and the yellowy white spot on the ice 
was a little bit higher up. 

If Chubby Charlie hadn’t gagged him, he 
might possibly have twisted around and 
gnawed himself loose from the sledge, but 
with a gag in his mouth, this was out of 
the question. Meanwhile the polar bear crept 
a little nearer. 

Mr. Packlepoose struggled again and felt 
the sledge move under him. The warm sun 
had melted the ice around it and it was no 
longer stuck fast. That wasn’t much relief, 
but at least it was a change. The polar bear 
was crawling a little nearer. 

You remember that the Eskimo harpoon 
was stuck fast in the ice, too. Mr. Packle- 
poose dragged himself and the sledge over 
to it and managed to get the end of the har- 
poon against the thongs. Then he sawed 
them up and down. It was slow work for 
[ 63 ] 


JUST THEN 


the thongs were tough, the harpoon none too 
sharp and his foot-hold slippery. The polar 
bear had seen him and was crawling upward 
faster now. He was weak from hunger, but 
the sight of a dinner bade him make every 
effort to reach it. 

At last one of the thongs was cut through. 
Mr. Packlepoose’s wrists were sore and swol- 
len, but he managed to work one of his hands 
free, then the other; and then he loosed the 
thong which held the gag in his mouth. His 
jaws had been pried apart so long that it 
was painful to move them, but at least he 
could yell and he did. The bear looked up 
in surprise but moved faster. He was glad 
his dinner was alive. He was so near that 
Mr. Packlepoose could see his eyes and his 
white fangs. 

And now, even though Mr. Packlepoose 
was free and had a harpoon, what chance did 
he stand against a huge and hungry bear? 
Well, perhaps he stood a chance if he 
could keep the bear off and topple it 
[ 64 ] 



There were three hears coming for him. 















































































































































































































































































































































SOMETHING HAPPENED 

down the ice-berg before it toppled him 
down. 

Mr. Packlepoose stood awaiting the bear, 
with the harpoon in his hand, when he heard 
a growl on his right. He turned his head 
and saw a second bear climbing toward him 
and before he had time fairly to take in the 
new situation, there came an answering growl 
on his left. There were three bears coming 
for him and if the first one didn’t get him, 
the others certainly would. Nearer and 
nearer they came. What was the use of 
fighting them? Yet what else was there 
to do? 

Again he gave a hasty look to the right, 
to the left and straight ahead. He didn’t 
dare to look behind him. And now the 
three bears were so near that they were just 
outside the reach of his harpoon and they 
stood on their hind legs, huge, hungry, 
horrible. Another minute and they would 
fall upon him and tear him to pieces. 

Just then something happened. 

[ 65 ] 


JUST THEN 


Across the air, there came the sound of a 
steamer’s whistle. It was as if someone were 
too far away to use a speaking trumpet, but 
had seen him through the glass and was 
trying to cry “ Ice-berg, ahoy!” 

Mr. Packlepoose stopped neither to look, 
nor to listen, but flung himself upon the 
Eskimo sledge and gave it a push. The 
three bears made a rush but they were a 
second too late. Mr. Packlepoose was flying 
down the ice on the Arctic automobile, faster 
than the wind. 

The sledge was of wood, bound together 
by thongs, so that when it hit the water it 
did not sink. Instead it skimmed and skipped 
along the water, exactly as you have done 
when shooting the chutes, only, as the sledge 
had such a fine start down the slippery ice, 
it was the very fastest and farthest “ shoot 
the chutes ” you ever saw or thought of. 

Mr. Packlepoose and the sledge went 
straight toward the ship and the ship came 
toward him. A green flag floated at the 
[ 66 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

masthead and the sides were crowded with 
swarthy faces eager to see the man who had 
been sailing the seas on an ice-berg with a 
crew of polar bears. 

As Mr. Packlepoose gazed back at these 
people, he was fully as much surprised as 
they, for alongside of every human face was 
the face of a monkey. But whether it was a 
man ship, or a monkey ship didn’t matter 
to Mr. Packlepoose. He was glad enough 
to be taken aboard and when he was aboard 
he found that the ship was loaded with 
organ-grinders returning to Italy and every 
grinder had his organ and every organ its 
monkey. 

Wouldn’t Bumpybambooney have been 
glad to know that her papa was safe once 
more even though the ship was taking him 
farther away. And wouldn’t she have been 
glad to be with him and heard all the organ- 
grinders playing different tunes at once and 
all the monkeys chattering and taking off 
their hats and looking so bewildered because 
[ 67 ] 


JUST THEN 

there was nobody who would give them any 
pennies. 

There was one very old man with a gray 
face and kindly brown eyes. He had short, 
thick, gray hair; long, drooping, gray eye- 
brows; and a long, drooping mustache. 
Wherever his beard showed through his skin, 
the stubble was gray, too. He had a monkey, 
which looked surprisingly like him. Its face 
was gray, too, with the same bushy gray 
above its forehead and the same plantive, 
brown eyes. 

The gray monkey was the most disap- 
pointed of all the monkeys when it failed to 
get any pennies. One day it presented its 
cap to Mr. Packlepoose and it looked so 
pitiful that Mr. Packlepoose put his hand 
in his pocket and give the monkey a coin. 
Instantly there was a chattering and jabber- 
ing and all the monkeys surrounded Mr. 
Packlepoose, reaching for pennies. “ No, 
no!” cried Mr. Packlepoose, laughing and 
waving them away. At that the biggest mon- 
[ 68 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


key of them all jumped on the little gray 
monkey and tried to take its money away 
from it. The gray monkey defended its 
booty bravely, which made the big monkey so 
angry that it seized the gray monkey and 
flung it into the sea. Mr. Packlepoose seized 
a life-preserver and jumped into the sea to 
save the gray monkey. 

The ship had to lower a boat to save them 
both and the captain was very much pro- 
voked. “ Have you no more sense than to 
delay my ship and risk your life on account 
of a miserable monkey? ” he demanded. 

But the old Italian kissed Mr. Packle- 
poose’s hand, with tears in his eyes, and when 
the ship arrived at Naples, Mr. Packlepoose 
had two friends, an old, gray Italian and a 
gray, old monkey. 

His first thought on landing was to get 
word to Mrs. Hockamaboury and to Bumpy- 
bambooney and his second thought was to 
find at once the quickest way to get back 
to them. 


[ 69 ] 


VII 


MY! WHAT A BIG MOUTH, AND THREE BOLD, BAD 
BANDITS ATTEMPT TO PUSH MR. PACKLE- 
POOSE INTO IT. OUT OF THE AIR COMES FLY- 
ING THE BIRD-BEAST WITH A COW’S TAIL 

T HE name of Mr. Paeklepoose’s old 
friend was Benevuto, and when the 
ship entered the Bay of Naples, 
Benevuto went almost mad with joy. The 
water gleamed in a blue half circle and the 
sky shone in a blue dome and the city rose on 
the shore as if going up a flight of steps to 
heaven. 

Back of the city towered Mt. Vesuvius, 
the volcano. Mr. Packlepoose had always 
wanted to see this volcano and when he found 
that he could not get a ship back for three 
days, he planned to visit it. He could have 
secured passage sooner in a ship to New 
York, but he didn’t want to go to New 
York, because he wanted to get back to 
[ 70 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Bumpybambooney and not to get into prison ; 
so he found a ship which was sailing to Bos- 
ton and engaged passage. 

Now, as you remember, Mr. Packlepoose 
had only started from home to go to Goshen 
and he hadn’t much money with him. It 
had cost him nothing to get to New York 
and he had spent little on the Titania , but he 
had insisted on paying his passage on the 
Italian boat, so that by the time he had 
cabled home, he had barely enough to buy 
a second cabin passage to Boston. He knew 
nobody in Naples and had no way of getting 
any more money. 

But in Naples many poor people live on a 
very few cents a day. Macaroni is cheap and 
wine is plentiful and nothing more is needed. 
If they haven’t a roof they live out of doors, 
and if they haven’t clothes a few rags will 
cover them. So Mr. Packlepoose thought 
he could get along while waiting for his boat. 
Also, it gave him a chance to visit Mt. 
Vesuvius. 


[ 71 ] 


JUST THEN 


On the Strado del Toledo he met his old 
friend Benevuto, who was so happy in being 
in his beloved Naples and so glad to see Mr. 
Packlepoose. “ Where are you going? ” 
asked Benevuto. 

“ I’m going out to see Vesuvius,” answered 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Oh no, no,” said Benevuto, “ not to-day. 
To-day there is the great air-ship flight by 
Count Zepaulhin. He is to fly further and 
longer than any man has ever flown before in 
his great, big, grand air-ship. You must 
stay to see him go up. Vesuvius is there 
always, but Zepaulhin and his grand ship 
of the air you may never see again.” 

Mr. Packlepoose smiled and answered, 
“ You are mistaken. I look at it just the 
other way. I can see many balloons and 
air-ships and flying-machines at other places 
and other times, but this may he the only 
chance I’ll ever have to see the great 
Vesuvius. My ship sails this week and this 
is my only chance.” 


[ 72 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“But where is your carriage? Where is 
your donkey? Vesuvius is ten miles away 
and oh! quite high to the top. You must 
have a donkey, at least.” 

“ No,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ I am 
going to walk. I have no money to hire 
a donkey.” 

“No money!” cried Benevuto, “are you 
not rich? ” 

“ No, indeed,” said Mr. Packlepoose, laugh- 
ing, and he put his hand in his pocket and 
drew out a few coins. “ That is all I have 
left.” 

Benevuto wrinkled his brows, shrugged 
his shoulders and lifted his hands. “ And I 
have been telling all my friends that you 
were the rich American lord, that you sailed 
on ice-bergs for pleasure and gave monkeys 
silver dollars.” 

Mr. Packlepoose laughed again and jin- 
gled the few coins. “You can see how rich 
I am,” he said, gayly; “but now good-by. 
I’m off for Vesuvius.” 

[ 73 ] 


JUST THEN 


“No, no! wait, wait!” cried Benevuto. 
“ I may never see you again.” 

“ No,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“And you are so poor!” 

“ Yes,” smiled Mr. Packlepoose. 

Benevuto suddenly burst out crying. 
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Mr. 
Packlepoose. 

“ I cry because I shall never see you 
and Gobbo any more. You are poor. 
Gobbo will get you many pennies, as 
he did for me. You will never be poor 
any more.” So saying, he thrust the 
gray monkey into Mr. Packlepoose’s 
arms, kissed Mr. Packlepoose on both 
cheeks, kissed the monkey and ran away, 
crying. 

Mr. Packlepoose was too astonished to pro- 
test. Before he could call Benevuto back 
and explain to him that he wasn’t quite that 
poor and didn’t want the monkey, the kind- 
hearted Italian was gone. Gobbo snuggled 
down into his breast and looked up with a 
[ 74 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


wistful expression and there was nothing for 
Mr. Packlepoose to do but to take him along. 
So Mr. Packlepoose and Gobbo set out for 
Vesuvius. 

I suppose if Mr. Packlepoose had been 
wise, he would have started in the afternoon, 
or early evening, so as to have the climb in 
the cool of the night and reach the top in 
time to see the sun rise, but he had never 
climbed mountains before and did not know 
what hard work it was. He enjoyed the 
walk along the road to Vesuvius very much. 
The sky was so blue and the air was delicious. 
He saw so many things which were new and 
strange to him. The people dressed in bright 
colors and were so gay and happy. If 
everything else failed, Gobbo was as funny 
as a monkey and what can be funnier than 
that? 

He noticed that all the people were going 
one way. He met all and overtook none and 
none overtook him. All seemed to be going 
into the city to see the air-ship and Mr. 

[ 75 ] 


JUST THEN 


Packlepoose told Gobbo they would have the 
volcano all to themselves. 

But the climb up the mountain was hot 
and tiresome. Mr. Packlepoose was glad 
when evening came and it was cooler. After 
a while the moon rose and the night was 
beautiful. Then the sky turned cloudy and 
it was dark again. But after a while, Mr. 
Packlepoose reached the top and sat down 
to wait for morning, as there was nothing 
else to do. He was afraid he might stumble 
into the crater, for Vesuvius is a hollow 
mountain, you know, and as it was about a 
half mile deep, a fall down might have 
skinned his shins, don’t you think? 

The wind, which had been shifting all day, 
now blew quite strong and steadily from the 
East. Mr. Packlepoose sat down on the 
softest piece of lava he could find and Gobbo 
snuggled down and went to sleep on his 
shoulder. Mr. Packlepoose nodded, too. He 
did not know how long he had slept when 
he was awakened by the gray monkey which 
[ 76 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


was chattering excitedly. Mr. Packlepoose 
started and turned his head and bumped into 
something cold and round like the end of 
a gas-pipe. It wasn’t a gas-pipe, though; it 
was the muzzle of a pistol and when Mr. 
Packlepoose saw what it was, he thought it 
looked more the size of a sewer-pipe, he was 
so frightened. 

“Sst!” said something on the other side 
and when he turned his head that way, he 
saw the muzzle of another pistol. 

“ What do you want? ” asked Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

“ Money! ” came the answer. 

“ I have no money, except a few silver 
pieces,” answered Mr. Packlepoose. 

“Pstt!” said something behind him and 
a sharp, pointed dagger stuck him in the 
back. Mr. Packlepoose sprang to his feet 
and the dagger was kept pressed to his back, 
forcing him forward. Presently a hand 
seized his collar and stopped him. Just then 
the moon shone faintly through a light cloud 
[ 77 ] 


JUST THEN 


and Mr. Packlepoose saw the great black 
mouth of the crater yawning before him. 

“ One thousand meters to the bottom,” said 
the voice on his left. 

“ Money!” said the voice on his right. 

“ Or down you go,” said the voice behind 
him, and as Mr. Packlepoose shrunk back, 
he again felt the prick of the dagger. 

Mr. Packlepoose put his hand in his 
pocket and drew out his few coins. “ All 
I have,” he said. 

One of the robbers struck his hand and the 
money fell jingling down the crater. “You 
a rich American and trying to fool us,” he 
growled. 

“ If I am a rich American,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, “ you dare not kill me, for 
my friends will pursue you and punish you.” 

“Your friends; posh! Will your friends 
find you in the bowels of Vesuvius? Come! 
money before I count three, or down you 
go. Will you give it?” 

Poor Mr. Packlepoose strained his eyes in 

[ 78 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


the darkness, but there was nothing to see. 
“ One! ” said the robber. 

Mr. Packlepoose shouted suddenly but the 
bandits only laughed, for there was no one 
to hear. “Two!” said the spokesman. 

“ Wait a minute, a second,” pleaded Mr. 
Packlepoose. “ I swear I have no money 
and I have not a friend in Italy, except 
one poor man. But when I get back home to 
America, I promise you I will send you 
money.” 

The robbers snorted in scorn and the 
spokesman opened his mouth to say “ Three! ” 
and it looked as if Bumpy bambooney would 
never see her Papa Packlepoose again. One 
robber jammed a pistol against his right 
temple, one rubbed a muzzle against his left 
ear; one pressed a dagger against his back- 
bone. And the spokesman opened his mouth 
to say “ Three! ” 

Just then something happened. 

Something big and black appeared in the 
air above, like a huge bird-beast. Something 
[ 79 ] 


JUST THEN 


long and swishing like the tail of the bird- 
beast struck Mr. Packlepoose in the face. 
With a yell Mr. Packlepoose jumped for it, 
kicked the robber on the right in the face, 
just as he cried “ Three!” and swung out 
over the crater. The other two robbers 
dropped to their knees with cries of terror, 
for they thought the huge thing was a visitor 
from heaven. 

Of course, as you have guessed, it was the 
air-ship. The wind had been changing so 
much all day that it hadn’t been able to start 
until evening. Although that was not the 
best time to start, the wind was blowing 
toward the land and not toward the sea 
and so Zepaulhin had started. Wasn’t it 
lucky for Mr. Packlepoose that he had? 

Now Zepaulhin tossed out a sand-bag and 
it hit the robber with the dagger swish! on 
the head, knocking him flat. The other one 
started to run down the mountain side, fell 
and broke his leg. When the three bandits 
were found the next morning, they told a 
[ 80 ] 





Mr. Packlepoose was clinging desperately to 
the anchor-rope. 




SOMETHING HAPPENED 


remarkable story of how Satan had come out 
of Vesuvius, kicked one of them in the face, 
stunned a second and broken the leg of a 
third and had then flown away toward 
Turkey. 

Meanwhile Mr. Packlepoose was clinging 
desperately to the anchor-rope of the air-ship 
and was going farther away from Bumpy- 
bambooney. Gobbo, who had been clinging 
to Mr. Packlepoose through the whole ad- 
venture, now climbed to his shoulder, then 
onto his head, and then up the rope, looking 
around as if inviting Mr. Packlepoose to 
follow. Climbing a rope for a man is not so 
easy as for a monkey, but Mr. Packlepoose 
clutched it with both hands, wound his legs 
around it and went up. Zepaulhin reached 
over and pulled and hauled him aboard. It 
was a new sensation for Mr. Packlepoose. 
There he was flying Eastward on an air-ship 
and Bumpybambooney was at home wishing 
she had never told her papa to go away. 


[ 81 ] 


VIII 


THE HILL-FINGER WITH THE EMERALD RING. A 
WELL FULL OF WATCHES AND WHAT’S THAT 
COMING? WHY, IT’S A PIRATE AIR-SHIP. 
R-R-R-RIP ! AND MR. PACKLEPOOSE FALLS OUT 

A S they flew along, Zepaulhin had to 
watch the movements of the air-ship 
carefully. He had to keep the 
engines going, steer it to pick out the best 
air currents and to guard against accidents 
of any kind. Yet he was very curious to 
know how Mr. Packlepoose had seemed to 
spring out of the mouth of the volcano, and 
as Mr. Packlepoose couldn’t help to run the 
air-ship, he just lay still and told Zepaulhin 
the story of Bumpybambooney and of the 
bandits of Mt. Vesuvius. 

“ But why didn’t you give the bandits your 
money?” asked Zepaulhin. “Money isn’t 
worth fighting for.” 


[ 82 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ Indeed it isn’t,” answered Mr. Packle- 
poose, “ especially if you haven’t any.” 

“You mean to say?” inquired the count. 

“ That I haven’t a sou,” supplied Mr. 
Packlepoose. 

“ And how are you intending to get back 
to Bumpybambooney after you are out of 
the air-ship?” 

“ That’s just what is bothering me,” an- 
swered Mr. Packlepoose, “ but I’ll find a 
way.” 

“ Well,” said Zepaulhin, “ as it is my air- 
ship which is making you miss your boat, 
I am sure you will allow me to lend you 
enough to get you home in comfort.” 

“ Thank you very much,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose, “ and if ever you crawl out of a 
volcano up the rope of my air-ship, I’ll do 
as much for you.” 

The count pulled a handful of gold pieces 
out of his pocket and handed them to Mr. 
Packlepoose and you may be sure Mr. 
Packlepoose was glad to get them, for now, 
[ 83 ] 


JUST THEN 


so he thought, he would not be delayed in 
getting back to Bumpybambooney, if ever 
the air-ship landed in safety. 

The ride was so exciting he hardly wanted 
the air-ship to land. If you have ever ridden 
on a bicycle, or sat in the bow of a fast 
steamer, or coasted down hill on a sled, you 
can imagine something of the fun of riding 
in an air-ship, if you can imagine doing all 
three at once, up in the air. 

When the morning came, Mr. Packle- 
poose was startled to find they were over the 
sea, but Zepaulhin said “ It’s the Adriatic, but 
we’re going fast and we’ll soon be in Turkey.” 

The world seemed spread beneath them like 
a map. They passed the sea, as well as 
plains, mountains, rivers and villages. Wher- 
ever they passed, people stopped and pointed 
up at them, then turned and ran away, as if 
in terror. Some even got guns and fired at 
them. 

“ What’s the matter with them? ” asked 
Mr. Packlepoose. 


[ 84 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ I can’t imagine,” answered the count. 
“ People are usually delighted to see an air- 
ship and watch us till we get out of sight.” 

Now they came to a large plain, miles long 
and miles wide, but without a living creature 
visible. “ Our petrol is getting low,” said 
Zepaulhin. “ I wish we’d come to a city, 
so we could descend.” 

“ It looks as if there couldn’t be a worse 
place to descend than here,” answered Mr. 
Packlepoose. As he spoke, they came in 
sight of a single, sandy hill in the very center 
of the desert plain. It was the only eleva- 
tion the eye could see for miles. Somewhere 
about it a spring struggled forth and grass 
and a few trees made a green ring all around 
the hill. 

“ Oh, look,” cried Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ What do you see?” asked Zepaulhin. 

“ An emerald ring and a hill in the middle, 
like a finger sticking through.” 

“ I see more than that,” answered the count. 
“ Look on top of the hill.” 

[ 85 ] 


JUST THEN 


Mr. Packlepoose looked and saw a barn- 
like building on the top of the hill. From 
one end of the building came a single rail, 
which ran to the edge of the hill and stopped. 
“ What is it?” asked Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ I can’t think why the thing should be 
here,” answered Zepaulhin, “ but it looks like 
a hangar — an air-ship shed. Yes, and there’s 
a tank in the rear for petrol or gasoline. 
We’ll go down.” 

The air-ship fluttered to the top of the 
hill, like a huge bird, but to their surprise 
they could find no one. The long shed was 
empty and no one was in sight. 

“ Well,” said Zepaulhin, “ we must have 
some petrol, so we’ll just help ourselves and 
leave a gold piece in payment.” 

While the count was getting his supply, 
Mr. Packlepoose took some bottles and went 
to look for the spring, so they could have 
some fresh water. He found it in a pretty lit- 
tle natural grotto, and after he had drunk he 
filled his bottles. To get the coolest, cleanest 
[ 86 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

water, he pushed the bottles to the bottom. 
As he lifted one up, it slipped from his 
hands and struck the sandy bottom. Mr. 
Packlepoose reached down for it and his 
fingers scraped the sand and struck some- 
thing hard. He scraped away the sand a 
little more and instead of the flat stone he 
expected to find, he found a flat, circular 
iron, like a lid. In the centre of the iron 
was a ring, but when Mr. Packlepoose put 
his fingers through and tried to move the 
iron, it was like pulling at a wall. 

He got into the spring, spread his feet 
and, using both hands, lifted as hard as he 
could and succeeded in moving it. The iron 
seemed to be the lid of a sort of well and 
when Mr. Packlepoose had got it off, he was 
amazed, for through the waters of the spring, 
as if through a glass, he saw a well-full of 
gold pieces, and watches, and chains, and 
rings, and jewels of every kind. 

Of course Mr. Packlepoose did not take 
any of them, for they were not his, but he 
[ 87 ] 


JUST THEN 


was also sure that they did not belong to 
whomsoever put them there. He ran and 
told the count. 

“ This must be a robber’s den,” cried 
Zepaulhin. 

“ And they have an air-ship like yours,” 
said Mr. Packlepoose. “ That’s why the 
people were afraid and why they fired at us.” 

“An air-ship pirate, the very first in the 
world ! ” cried Zepaulhin. “ I wish I could 
see their machine.” 

Mr. Packlepoose suddenly pointed toward 
the West. “ You have your wish, I am 
afraid.” 

Far off on the horizon was a tiny speck 
in the clear air and, as Mr. Packlepoose had 
guessed, it was the pirate air-ship returning. 
Zepaulhin looked at it through his binoculars. 
“We must get away,” he cried. “ It is the 
biggest air-ship I ever saw.” ^ 

In a few minutes they were flying East- 
ward again and the new supply of petrol 
made the engines work to the limit. But, 
[ 88 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


fast as they were moving, the pirate-ship was 
faster and loomed constantly larger and 
larger. “ It is possible,” said Zepaulhin, “ that 
they have not seen us, as we are so much 
smaller. It is possible that they may stop 
at their hill and not follow us at all.” 

Mr. Packlepoose seized the glass and 
watched. “ They are stopping,” he cried. 
“ No, they are just circling the hill. Now 
they are flying as near to it as they can. I’m 
afraid they have seen that someone has been 
there. They are landing; no; yes; no; they 
are coming this way.” 

“We must do our best to keep ahead of 
them till night,” said Zepaulhin, “ and then 
perhaps we can get away in the darkness. 
If they catch us, they will surely try to kill 
us, for they can hardly afford that anyone 
should know their hiding-place.” 

“ They are doubtless armed,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, “ and they are doubtless desper- 
ate. I haven’t as much as a pen-knife myself.” 

When darkness fell, Zepaulhin made sev- 
[ 89 ] 


JUST THEN 


eral doubles and turns and twists in his course, 
but all to no avail. When the moon came up, 
the pirate-ship loomed larger than ever in 
the air behind them. Closer and closer still 
it came until Mr. Packlepoose could see 
three faces peering over the side of the car. 
One was long and thin and cruel, one was 
short and snubby and brutal, and one was 
round and fat and beastly. Each face was 
surmounted by a Turkish fez and each man 
seemed armed to the teeth. As they stood up, 
he saw that they carried rifles in their hands, 
pistols in their belts and short swords at their 
sides. “ I wonder they do not shoot,” said 
Zepaulhin. 

“ I guess they want to have the pleasure 
of catching us and cutting our throats,” said 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ The city!” cried Zepaulhin, and he 
pointed down. “ They don’t fire for fear of 
attracting attention. If we can find a* square 
or an open place we will alight,” and he 
started the air-ship downward. 

[ 90 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


But there are very few squares in Con- 
stantinople and before Zepaulhin could see a 
place to land, the pirate-ship came up from 
behind with a rush and rammed into them. 
One of the pirates stayed at the wheel to 
steer and Zepaulhin was obliged to stay at 
his. The other two pirates leaned over the 
car and when the ships came together, they 
hurled their daggers at Mr. Packlepoose. 
Luckily the lurch made their aim untrue and 
they both missed him. The pirate-ship swung 
around to ram them again and this time it 
aimed at their gas-bag and cut right through it. 
The Zepaulhin ship fluttered and flopped like 
a wounded bird and then turned completely 
over, throwing Mr. Packlepoose clear out of 
the car. The pirates gave a yell of triumph 
and sailed away. 

Zepaulhin’s air-ship fell and the count fell 
with it, but he clung desperately to the frame- 
work and, though he received a terrible jolt, 
he was not killed, but was found next morn- 
ing and taken to a hospital. But what about 
[ 91 ] 


JUST THEN 

Mr. Packlepoose, who had fallen clear out of 
the car? 

He would surely have been killed instantly 
had not a very curious thing happened. 

You see the air-ships in coming together had 
not been able to watch where they were 
going and they had come right over the 
Mosque of St. Sophia. At the moment Mr. 
Packlepoose fell out, they were right above 
one of the minarets. Of course you know 
that a mosque is built with a huge round 
dome in the center and minarets, which are 
pointed like steeples, at the corners. Had 
Mr. Packlepoose been speared by the minaret, 
it might have killed him, but the top just 
happened to catch his coat and held him. 

There he was suspended in the air on the 
top of a minaret in Constantinople a couple 
of hundred feet above the ground, but the 
pirates were gone and he was not killed. 
Away over in America, a little girl was so 
sorry she had ever told him to go away. 


[ 92 ] 


IX 



WHAT SORT OF AN ANIMAL ALIGHTS ON STEEPLES, 
RAINS DOWN GOLD PIECES AND CHATTERS 
LIKE A MONKEY? AND HOW CAN YOU MAKE 
A LONG LADDER OUT OF A SHORT PIECE OF 
ROPE? 



HEN the tip of the minaret 
caught Mr. Packlepoose and 
turned him upside down, the gold 


which Zepaulhin had given to him fell out 
of his pockets and went jingling downward. 

Mr. Packlepoose noticed from the sound 
that some of the pieces seemed to fall but a 
short distance, but he paid no particular at- 
tention to that at the time, as he was in 
such danger of breaking his neck. But as 
soon as he could wind his arms and legs 
around the top of the minaret so that he was 
not in danger of falling, he looked down and 
saw, in the moonlight, that there was a little 


[ 93 ] 


JUST THEN 


balcony built around the minaret and one or 
two of his gold pieces had doubtless lodged 
there. The balcony was pretty high up from 
the ground, but it was pretty far down from 
him. Mr. Packlepoose could reach around 
the cone of the minaret, but it was much too 
big around, a little farther down. The only 
thing to do was to wait for daylight for some- 
one to discover him, but even then, what good 
would it do? How could anyone get him off? 
No ladder could reach him and the thought 
came to him that he must stay there until 
he fainted from lack of food and water, or 
until his strength gave out and he fell off. 
Already his arms and legs were aching and 
he wondered how long he could hold on. 

They ached much worse before sunrise and 
it seemed to Mr. Packlepoose that every min- 
ute must be his last; but he was determined 
to hold on until daybreak anyway, even 
though he didn’t see how daybreak could 
help him. 

Another thing. He was so sleepy and ex- 
[ 94 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


hausted it seemed to him his eye-lids weighed 
a pound apiece, but if he should fall asleep, 
he was afraid he would fall somewhere else. 
Several times he dozed off and awoke with 
a start of terror, as he felt his arms and 
legs letting go their grip. At last, his eyes 
closed in spite of him. 

Just then something happened. 

A strange thing it was, or at least it seemed 
strange to him, for he heard a voice which 
seemed to come out of the air below him. 

Mr. Packlepoose looked and saw that it 
was dawn and that a man had come out on 
the little balcony and was saying something 
in a loud voice. Then Mr. Packlepoose re- 
membered that this was the muezzin of the 
mosque and that it was his duty to summon 
the people to prayers at daybreak. That 
was what he was doing now. “ God is great. 
There is no God but Allah and Mahomet is 
his prophet. Prayer is better than sleep. 
Come to prayer!” he cried and then he 
stopped suddenly and listened intently, for 
[ 95 ] 


JUST THEN 

his quick ear had caught a sound above 
him. 

“ Pick up the money and help me to get 
down!” called Mr. Packlepoose. At the 
sound of his voice, the muezzin crouched and 
beat his forehead against the floor of the little 
balcony, crying to Allah and the Prophet. 
As his hand struck the balcony, it chanced 
that he touched the gold piece and a gold 
piece is a language that all peoples under- 
stand. The muezzin grasped it and felt it 
carefully and then put it to his mouth with 
a cry of pleasure. Mr. Packlepoose spoke 
again and the muezzin turned his face toward 
the sound. Then Mr. Packlepoose saw that 
the man was blind. 

That seemed to Mr. Packlepoose to be the 
last straw. A man with all his senses would 
have trouble enough to help him, but what 
could a blind man do? He felt he might as 
well let go and end the agony at once? Now 
Gobbo had been snuggling in Mr. Packle- 
poose’s pocket, or clinging to his shoulder 
[ 96 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


all the night. At the sight of the muezzin 
he set up a chattering and the poor muezzin 
was more bewildered than ever. What sort 
of a being was this which flew through the 
air, alighted on minarets, threw down gold 
pieces and chattered like a monkey? Pres- 
ently he turned and disappeared and if Mr. 
Packlepoose had been Bumpy bambooney, he 
would have cried with disappointment. But 
after a while the muezzin returned with an- 
other man dressed in flowing white robes and 
with a white turban. 

“Rope!” cried Mr. Packlepoose, motion- 
ing with one hand to show what he needed. 

The white-robed man made a motion as if 
throwing something into the air and shook 
his head, meaning that there was no way to 
get the rope to him. Now it happened that 
when Benevuto gave Gobbo to Mr. Packle- 
poose he had left the string on him and Mr. 
Packlepoose had not taken it off. This string 
would hold Gobbo’s weight, but would not 
hold that of Mr. Packlepoose, of course. 
[ 97 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ Well, Gobbo,” said Mr. Packlepoose, 
“ there is no use of your dying up here in 
the air. I can get you down, even if I can’t 
get down myself.” So Mr. Packlepoose wound 
the string around his hand and arm, then 
dropped Gobbo into the air and gradually 
unwound the string. When the white-robed 
one saw the monkey coming, he clapped his 
hands and ran away, but soon came back 
with a good, stout, hempen rope. Mr. Packle- 
poose’s string did not quite reach to the bal- 
cony and he was just about to let the monkey 
drop the rest of the way, when the white- 
robed one shook his head vigorously and 
motioned. So Mr. Packlepoose held Gobbo 
on the end of the string suspended in mid- 
air and the white-robed one tossed the end 
of the rope to Gobbo. Gobbo missed it the 
first time, but caught it the second and then 
Mr. Packlepoose wound the string up, again 
pulling up Gobbo and the rope. ^ 

Gobbo got back into Mr. Packlepoose’s 
pocket and Mr. Packlepoose had a rope! 

[ 98 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


But alas! it was a short rope, and even if it 
had been long enough he would have had 
difficulty in fastening it to the top of the 
minaret. So Mr. Packlepoose tied the ends 
of the rope together and put it around the 
minaret and around himself, so that the rope 
held them in a sort of ring. Then, by putting 
his feet against the minaret and his hands on 
the rope, he could push his body against the 
rope and hold it so tight that it could not 
slip. Then he took a step downward and 
backward, easing the pressure on the rope. 
It slipped down a bit and he pushed outward 
again to stop it. So, by slipping the rope a 
little, and stopping it when it went too fast, 
he gradually worked his way down to the 
balcony. 

The white-robed one motioned him to take 
off his shoes before he could enter the minaret 
of the mosque, because the Mussulmans be- 
lieve the mosque is holy ground. Then he 
motioned to Mr. Packlepoose that he must 
throw Gobbo over the balcony, because a 
[ 99 ] 


JUST THEN 

monkey could not be allowed to enter the 
mosque. 

Mr. Packlepoose shook his head and shook 
his fist. Gobbo had saved his life and he 
would as soon have thought of throwing him- 
self over the balcony. The two Turks then 
tried to seize the monkey, but Mr. Packle- 
poose dodged into the door and down the 
steps ahead of them. Luckily for him, the 
blind man got into the other’s way and they 
both fell down, so Mr. Packlepoose got away 
and out into the narrow, dirty streets of Con- 
stantinople. 

Here he had no great difficulty losing his 
pursuers and losing himself also. Few of the 
streets were named or numbered and there 
were few squares or open places, but what 
seemed most curious to Mr. Packlepoose was 
the number of homeless dogs which went 
wandering around all over the city. 

“Heigh-ho!” said Mr. Packlepoose, “I 
wish I were home with Mrs. Hockamaboury. 
I’ve had no sleep and I’ve had no break- 
[ 100 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


fast. I’ve lost my money and I’ve lost my 
shoes.” 

If Bumpybambooney had known, don’t you 
think she would have been sorry she had ever 
told her papa to go away? 


[ 101 ] 


X 


TWO WHITE PRIESTS, THREE BLACK PIRATES, A 
WILDERNESS OF DOGS AND A MONKEY! THEY 
LEAD TO THE LADY-WITH-THE-BLUE-EYES 
AND A SEWED-UP SACKFUL OF PACKLEPOOSE 

A S Mr. Packlepoose wandered around, 
he began to attract more attention 
than he liked. And Gobbo added to 
the attention. Soon quite a crowd of people 
were following him and Mr. Packlepoose was 
very much annoyed. Gobbo, however, did 
not seem to mind it. He took off his cap 
to the people repeatedly and they all laughed. 
“ Why, Gobbo,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ you 
are up to your old tricks, aren’t you? ” And 
Gobbo looked up into his face as much as 
to say, “Why not?” 

Mr. Packlepoose also said to himself, 
“Why not?” Then he laughed a little, 
looked at his bare feet, felt in his empty 
[ 102 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


pockets and said, “Why not?” So Mr. 
Packlepoose stood up against a building and 
sang : — 

“ Bumpybambooney has such a sweet face; 
Her nose sticks right out of the middle. 
Her eyes never wander away from their 
place 

And her voice is as sweet as a fiddle. 

O, fiddledee, fiddledee, fiddledee dee! 

It’s Bumpybambooney I’m waiting to 
see; 

Her eyes are to smell with, her nose is to 
see 

And I wish I had Bumpybambooney 
with me.” 

Gobbo was crazy with joy. He frisked 
about, jumped up and down, rolled over, 
took off his cap time and again and kept up 
a constant chattering, as if to say: — 

“ Give me a penny 

and see what I’ll do. 

If you have many, 

give me a few. 
Haven’t you any? 

Then give me two.” 

[ 103 ] 


JUST THEN 


The men gave him a few small coins and 
the children would have given him more, if 
they had had them. As it was, they offered 
him toys and play-things, which Gobbo would 
not take. One little boy gave him a pocket- 
knife, which Gobbo clutched tightly in his 
hand. Things were going along finely for 
Mr. Packlepoose. “Who knows?” he 
laughed to himself, “ but Gobbo will earn 
me enough in time to get back to Bumpy- 
bambooney.” 

But just then something happened. 

Two figures in white passed along the 
street and one of them suddenly stopped and 
half turning his head, paused as if listening. 
The other seized him by his sleeve, but the 
first one pointed in the direction of Gobbo, 
who had resumed his chatter. What Mr. 
Packlepoose noticed as peculiar was that the 
man pointed without looking and then Mr. 
Packlepoose noticed that the man was blind. 
It was the muezzin. 

Now to Mr. Packlepoose, it did not seem 
[ 104 ] 



Gobbo leaped upon bim and the dog set 
a bowl. 


up 












































































SOMETHING HAPPENED 


to be a very serious offense to run through 
a mosque with a monkey, but he knew the 
Mussulmans were very strict about their re- 
ligion and its temples. He thought it was 
just as well to avoid trouble if he could, so 
he turned his back to the white-robed men 
and started to walk in the opposite direction. 

As he did so, he saw three fez-topped men 
approaching and one had a face which was 
long and thin and cruel, and one had a face 
which was short and snubby and brutal, and 
one had a face round and rough and beastly. 
With one accord they stopped and looked 
toward Gobbo and then their cruel eyes 
sought out the monkey’s owner. So there 
stood Mr. Packlepoose in the narrow street, 
with the pirates on one hand and the priests 
on the other. Just then, too, one of the many 
wretched street-dogs snapped at Gobbo and 
Gobbo leaped upon him and bit him. The 
dog set up a howl and instantly all the other 
dogs of the street, as well as the people, 
rushed at poor Gobbo, for these wretched 
[ 105 ] 


JUST THEN 


beasts are considered holy by the Mussul- 
mans. Though Mr. Packlepoose would have 
avoided trouble if he could, he was not going 
to see Gobbo hurt if he could help it, so he 
rushed into the thick of it after Gobbo and 
the three pirates and the two priests rushed 
after Mr. Packlepoose. The street was in 
an uproar. The dogs barked, the people 
yelled, the pirates cursed and Gobbo screamed 
and scolded. A hundred hands tried to seize 
the little gray monkey, but he was quicker 
than any of them and darted through a door, 
which was open just a crack. The crowd 
stopped, but Mr. Packlepoose broke through 
and followed, scarcely thinking what he did. 
He found himself in a covered passage, with 
Gobbo still ahead of him and badly fright- 
ened. The passage led to an open court and 
Mr. Packlepoose guessed that he was in 
somebody’s house and that if somebody 
caught him there he would have trouble. 

All around the court-yard there were nu- 
merous doors and windows of irregular sizes 
[ 106 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


and through one of these Gobbo had dis- 
appeared, but Mr. Packlepoose could not tell 
which one. He stood there in the center 
of the court, staring about him. Outside he 
could hear the mob shouting and the dogs 
barking. Inside, all was still for the moment, 
though he fancied he heard a low murmur 
as of smothered and half -frightened laughter, 
but he expected some Terrible Turk with a 
scimetar to appear any moment and cut off 
his head. 

And, indeed, he now heard heavy footsteps 
and a fierce voice. There seemed no way to 
go and nothing to do and Mr. Packlepoose 
was in a tight place. 

Just then something happened. 

It was a very small thing which happened, 
but it was enough just then. 

A small door opened, a small hand beck- 
oned. Mr. Packlepoose dashed toward the 
door and squeezed through it and stood look- 
ing into a pair of blue eyes. 

The eyes were all he saw, for the lady 
[ 107 ] 


JUST THEN 


wore a haick, or veil, over the rest of her face. 
She hurriedly led him into a room where four 
other women were lolling about, laughing and 
playing with a monkey. The monkey was 
Gobbo, of course. 

Each of the women wore loose silken 
trousers, with a loose sort of an apron-skirt 
over them. At sight of Mr. Packlepoose, 
the women screamed and covered their faces 
with their skirts, for a Turkish woman must 
not let her face be seen by any man not of 
her own household. Mr. Packlepoose could 
not help smiling at them, and not wishing to 
embarrass them he started to back out, but 
the Lady-with-the-Blue-Eyes would not let 
him. She turned to the rest and said some- 
thing, pointing to his bare feet, laying her 
hand over her stomach and pointing again to 
Gobbo, by which Mr. Packlepoose knew she 
was telling them that he was poor and hungry 
and would do them no harm any more than 
his own monkey. 

Having put on their veils they gathered 

[ 108 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


about him, as if he were as curious an animal 
as Gobbo. They felt of his American clothes 
and they brought him some Turkish shoes. 
They also gave both him and Gobbo food 
and showed him a little closet-like room with 
a couch where he might go to sleep. And 
Mr. Packlepoose went to sleep on the in- 
stant and so did Gobbo. They slept there 
all that day and far into the night. When 
Mr. Packlepoose awakened, it was because 
of a warm light held close to his eyes and a 
cold knife against his throat. He opened 
his eyes to see two huge, ox-like men regard- 
ing him. He did not cry out, for there was 
no one to whom to call and the two men made 
no sound and said no word. They motioned 
Mr. Packlepoose to stand up and when he 
did so, they put a long sack over his head 
and threw him on the couch again. Gobbo 
began to whimper and without a word they 
thrust him into the sack also. “ Poor 
Gobbo !” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

Then the men sewed up the end of the 
[ 109 ] 


JUST THEN 


sack. It was very smothery, but enough air 
got through so that Mr. Packlepoose and 
Gobbo could breathe. One of the men slung 
the load on his shoulders like a bag of meal 
and carried the sack till he got tired. Then 
the other carried it a way and finally Mr. 
Packlepoose could hear the lapping of water. 

Now they dumped him into a boat as if 
he were a sack of potatoes and now Mr. 
Packlepoose knew what they were going to 
do to him. All his life he had read of how 
the cruel Sultan had had offenders sewn into 
sacks and thrown into the sea and now he 
was about to be drowned like a superfluous 
kitten himself. Mr. Packlepoose reflected 
that he had always been kind to kittens and it 
did seem a little hard that he should be 
drowned without even a chance to struggle 
for his life. 

The two men jumped into the boat and 
began to row. Splash, creak! splash, creak! 
splash, creak! went the oars for a long time. 
They were getting a long way from shore. 

[ 110 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Then they stopped, took a heavy weight 
and tied it around Mr. Packlepoose’s feet, 
dumped him into the water, and rowed rap- 
idly away. 

Away over in America a little girl was so 
sorry. How much sorrier she would have 
been had she known that her father was sewn 
in a sack and dumped into the sea, with a 
fifty-pound weight tied to him to keep him 
down. 


[in] 


XI 


AN AUTOMOBILLYBOAT LOOKS LIKE A SCOW ON 
STILTS AND YOU COULDN’T CATCH AN OYS- 
TER WITH YOUR TAIL LIKE GOBBO DID. 
THE MAHOGANY MAN WANTS TO PLAY 
MARBLES 

G OBBO gave a little whimper of terror 
- and pressed against Mr. Packle- 
poose’s hand. 

Just then something happened. 

One thing which happened was that they 
struck the bottom, but that didn’t help any. 
The other thing was that Mr. Packlepoose 
felt something pass from Gobbo’s hand to 
his. It was the pocket-knife which the de- 
lighted little Turkish boy had given him the 
previous morning. Throughout the adven- 
tures of the day and night Gobbo had held 
on to the knife, as he had been taught to keep 
everything given to him until his master took 
it away. 


[ 112 ] 



A little terrified face appeared above tbe water. 




SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Mr. Packlepoose opened the knife in a 
flash, ripped up the sack, thrust out Gobbo, 
cut the cord away which held the weight from 
around his ankles and struck out for the sur- 
face. Of course all this happened in just a 
few seconds after they had been thrown 
from the boat; but it seemed to Mr. Packle- 
poose that his lungs would burst before he 
got his head above water. When he came 
up he took several deep breaths and told 
himself he had never known how good air 
tasted before. 

Now a little, chattering, terrified face 
appeared, now bobbing above the water in 
the moonlight, now sinking underneath. 
“What’s the matter, Gobbo?” called Mr. 
Packlepoose. “ I thought all animals could 
swim.” But Gobbo struggled over to him 
and climbed upon his shoulders, still fussing. 
Suddenly Mr. Packlepoose shouted. He 
had seen a strange, strange vessel beating 
down, or rather shooting down, toward the 
Mediterranean. At the first glance in the 
[ 113 ] 


JUST THEN 


moonlight, it looked like nothing quite so 
much as a scow on stilts and, indeed, when 
Mr. Packlepoose came to examine her later, 
by daylight, his first startled impression still 
seemed to be pretty nearly correct. 

Presently, there came an answering hail 
and the strange vessel swung around, more 
like an auto than like a ship, and passed close 
enough to throw him a line. The boat 
backed squarely up to him and took him in 
over the stern just as if there were no screw 
there and, a little later, Mr. Packlepoose 
found out that there wasn’t. The screw on 
this strange boat was in front and pulled 
rather than pushed. When she got to going 
fast the entire boat rose out of the water 
and only the screw remained under, so that 
it looked as if she were flying through the 
air. The boat hung in a sort of frame and 
the legs of the frame, so to speak, ^dipped 
into the water and on the bottom of each was 
a flat piece which you might call a foot, each 
tilted upward a little, so that the faster the 
[ 114 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

boat went the nearer to the surface came 
the feet, until they just skimmed over the 
top of the water like the runners of an 
ice-boat. 

The sailors hauled Mr. Packlepoose aboard 
and he was content to lie there till he could 
rest a bit, but Gobbo, who had clung to 
him, still kept up a chattering and com- 
plaining. 

“You don’t know enough to know when 
you are well off, Gobbo,” panted Mr. Packle- 
poose, but Gobbo jumped up and down and 
pounded something on the deck. 

“Whatever is the matter with you?” de- 
manded Mr. Packlepoose. Looking, he saw 
that an enormous oyster had fastened itself 
to Gobbo’s tail. It was the weight of the 
oyster which had made him swim so poorly 
and it was the pinch of it which made him 
complain. Evidently, when Mr. Packlepoose 
had thrust him out of the sack, Gobbo’s 
tail had swished into the open shell, lying 
on the bottom of the sea, and when it closed, 
[ 115 ] 


JUST THEN 

poor Gobbo had brought the oyster unwill- 
ingly along. 

Mr. Packlepoose laughed, seized the oyster 
and broke it open, releasing poor Gobbo’s 
tail. The monkey jumped about delightedly, 
now licking his pinched tail, now darting 
upon the oyster and tearing it from its shell 
and then fawning upon Mr. Packlepoose in 
gratitude. After a round or two like this, 
he settled down in his master’s arms and 
pressed something round into his hand. 

“A marble!” said Mr. Packlepoose. 
“ First a knife and then a marble. Well, 
what else did those generous little beggars 
give you yesterday morning? ” 

He was about to toss Gobbo’s treasure 
overboard, when he thought to himself that 
Gobbo’s feelings might be hurt if he should 
see his gift thrown away, so Mr. Packle- 
poose slipped it into his pocket. ^ 

About that time a sailor touched Mr. 
Packlepoose upon the shoulder and signaled 
him that he was to go into the cabin to see 
[ 116 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


the master of the automobillyboat, for that 
was what the strange vessel was called. The 
master of the strange boat was strange also. 
He sat upon a sort of a throne in the main 
cabin, which was cushioned and furnished like 
a parlor. 

The man’s skin was a rich brown and 
shone as if it had been oiled. His hair was 
as white as linen and was brushed smoothly 
back from his brown brow. “ He looks like 
a mahogany bed with a white spread,” thought 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

The Mahogany Man took a pipe from his 
mouth and spoke in Spanish. 

“No intendiente ” answered Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

The Mahogany Man tried German. “ Ich 
verstehe nicht ” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

The next question came in French. “ Je 
ne comprends pas ” answered Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

The Mahogany Man tried Arabic, but Mr. 
Packlepoose only shook his head, and the 
[ 117 ] 


JUST THEN 


Mahogany Man tried Russian. “ I don’t 
understand,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“Well, why didn’t you say so in the first 
place? ” cried the Mahogany Man impatiently 
and put his pipe back into his mouth and 
smoked furiously. For the first time, Mr. 
Packlepoose noticed what an oddly shaped 
pipe it was, for it was like a small, iron stove 
and had a stem, jointed and black, exactly 
like a small stove-pipe. 

“ Of course you know who I am,” said the 
Mahogany Man, gasping and choking over 
his pipe, but puffing away bravely. Then, 
without waiting for an answer, he added with 
importance, “ I am the Ramjam of Squat. 
Naturally, I cannot associate with you. Out 
of the ocean you came. Into the ocean you 
go.” He choked again over his pipe and 
gasped, “ Oh, I wish I could stop this stove 
from smoking!” 

“ Allow me,” said Mr. Packlepoose po- 
litely. Taking his pipe from between the 
teeth of the Ramjam of Squat, he turned it 
[ 118 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


upside down and knocked it against his heel. 
Then he blew once through the stem and 
handed it back, saying, “ Your Ramjamness 
will find that it has ceased smoking.” 

“Wonderful! You are a man after my 
own heart. Who are you?” 

Mr. Packlepoose drew himself up proudly 
and answered, “ I am the Packlepoose of 
USA, Husband of the Hockamaboury, and 
Father Plenipotentiary and Comrade Ex- 
traordinary to the Only Bumpybambooney.” 

The Ramjam of Squat opened his eyes 
and mouth in amazement, seized Mr. Packle- 
poose by the hand and pressed his forehead 
to it. 

“ I am honored to receive you,” he cried. 
“ Really, you must stay to breakfast. I am 
just on my way to Mocha to get a cup of 
coffee. If you will be good enough to spend 
the day with me, we shall have tea at 
Ceylon.” 

“ My dear Ramjam,” cried Mr. Packle- 
poose, “ surely you know that Mocha lies at 
[ 119 ] 


JUST THEN 


the extreme end of the Red Sea, nearly two 
thousand miles away.” 

“Very good, very good!” said the Ram- 
jam; “then we shall have time to stop at 
Jaffa and pick up an orange to begin upon. 
They have very good oranges there.” 

To Mr. Packlepoose this didn’t seem to 
make the matter any better, but as if there 
were nothing more to be said on the subject, 
the Ram jam turned to another topic and 
said, “And now I will tell you the story of 
the Seven Copper Kettles and you shall tell 
me of the Bumpybambooney, which is, no 
doubt, a very interesting animal. But first 
you must have some dry clothing, as befits 
your rank.” 

The Ram jam clapped his hands and a 
slave brought silk and velvet clothing and 
togged Mr. Packlepoose up until he felt like 
a masquerade. Then Mr. Packlepoose and 
the Ram jam matched stories, as they called 
it ; first one telling the best story he knew and 
then the other trying to tell a better 
[ 120 ] 


one, 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


and the time flew so rapidly that Mr. Packle- 
poose really didn’t know whether it was that 
morning or the next. 

At last he noticed that the Ram jam seemed 
to be losing his temper. He tried hard to 
keep him good-natured by telling his very 
best stories, but the better stories he told the 
sulkier the Ram jam became. Mr. Packle- 
poose did not guess that the Ram jam was 
very proud of his abiliy as a story teller 
and did not like to have anyone beat him 
at it. 

Finally, after Mr. Packlepoose had told 
the story of “ The Worm Who Clad the 
King,” the Ramjam said, “ Oh, very well, 
story-telling is a child’s game anyway. I’m 
sure I can beat you playing marbles.” 

“Marbles!” echoed Mr. Packlepoose in 
astonishment. 

“ You think we can’t play marbles on ship- 
board, don’t you?” asked the Ramjam in 
great glee. “ But I want you to know that 
[ 121 ] 


JUST THEN 

the automobillyboat runs so smoothly we can 
play perfectly.” 

“ But I haven’t played marbles since I 
don’t know when,” laughed Mr. Packlepoose. 

“What!” cried the Ramjam, angrily. 
“ You a grown man and do not play marbles. 
Why, I thought every gentleman carried a 
supply.” And reaching into his pocket, the 
Ramjam drew out a handful of crystal agates 
and flung them on the floor. 

The Ramjam acted so much as if it were 
inexcusable not to play marbles that Mr. 
Packlepoose felt very much embarrassed. 
He tried to laugh out of it, but that made 
the Ramjam angrier than ever. “What!” 
he cried, lashing himself into a fury. “You 
do not play marbles, you cannot play marbles, 
you will not play marbles? I knew you were 
not fit company for a Ramjam! ” 

“ Oh, but your Ramjamness,” protested 
Mr. Packlepoose, “ I do not mean to be dis- 
agreeable. I’ll play marbles with you, if 
you like.” 


[ 122 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Oh, you will!” screamed the Ram jam. 
“ But you have no marbles. You would play 
with my marbles and not allow me to play 
with yours. Pish! pash! The bow-string for 
you.” 

He clapped his hands and two slaves ap- 
peared. One had a sort of a slip-noose and 
the other Mr. Packlepoose’s clothes. “ The 
Packlepoose of USA desires to be dressed 
for breakfast,” called the Ram jam, in a 
terrible voice. “Be sure to tie his cravat 
tight " 

Now you might not know what the Ram- 
jam meant by that, unless you know that in 
that part of the world the bow-string is 
used for the purpose of strangling criminals. 
It looked as if the Ram jam intended to have 
Mr. Packlepoose choked to death. “ The 
Packlepoose of USA is tired of our society 
and he does not play marbles, so tie his 
cravat tight,” said the Ram jam. 

The Slave-of-the-Bow-String was a huge 
hulk of a man, very strong, very quick and 
[ 123 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


very cruel. The Slave-of-the-Old-Clothes 
was a little, cringing, trembling fellow. 
“What does the Packlepoose of USA 
deserve ?” cried the Ramjam. 

“He deserves death !” bellowed the big 
slave and leaping upon Mr. Packlepoose, he 
twisted his hands back, thrust the slip-noose 
over his head and pulled it tight. Poor Mr. 
Packlepoose was entirely helpless. It seemed 
only a matter of a minute before he would 
be choked to death. 

But just then something happened. 


[ 124 ] 


XII 


WHY THE RAMJAM BUMPED HIS HEAD AGAINST 
THE FLOOR. YES, YOU CAN GET SEA-SICK IN 
THE DESERT AND IT MAKES YOU MAD TO HAVE 
YOUR BOAT BITE YOU IN THE LEG 

T HE Slave-of-the-Old-Clothes also 
made answer to his master and he 
said, “ He deserves death, for he has 
deceived your Ramjamness. He does play 
marbles.” Thrusting his hand into Mr. 
Packlepoose’s old clothes, he pulled out a 
round, white object, passed it to the Ram jam 
and added, 4 ‘It is larger that those of your 
highness, but it is only common white.” 

The Ram jam gave a cry of amazement. 
His eyes stuck out like two of his own mar- 
bles. He made a sign to the Slave-of-the- 
Bow-String, who released Mr. Packlepoose 
instantly. The Ram jam went down on his 
knees and in that position waddled across 

[ 125 ] 


JUST THEN 


the cabin and cried, “ Mighty Packlepoose 
of USA, whose marbles are magnificent 
pearls, I bump my head before you.” 

Mr. Packlepoose was as much surprised 
as the Ram jam. It certainly was a magnifi- 
cent pearl, round and pure and perfect. For 
a moment he could not account for it and 
then he remembered what Gobbo had thrust 
into his hand after the oyster was removed 
from his tail. 

“ Ram jam,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ you 
are too changeable for me. “ I cannot tell 
from one minute to another whether you are 
going to kiss my feet, or to have me eaten 
for dinner. If you don’t mind, I’ll let you 
put me ashore.” 

Oh,” said the Ramjam, “you are doubt- 
less on your way to Mecca with your Great 
White Pearl. Far be it from me to deprive 
you of the honors which await you. You will 
see the Grand Sherif and will give him this 
scroll from me.” 

The Ramjam wrote a few words on a 

[ 126 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


piece of parchment and rolled it on a small 
piece of wood which he handed to Mr. 
Packlepoose with his pearl. Now, Mr. 
Packlepoose had no idea of going to see the 
Grand Sherif of Mecca, but the Ram jam 
acted so much like a madman that he con- 
sidered it wise to go ashore. Anyway, the 
automobillyboat wasn’t going his way and 
he had an idea that almost any port would 
have a cable office and an occasional steamer 
to Europe and thence to America and to 
Bumpybambooney. The automobillyboat 
hove to and the Ram jam ordered a row-boat 
lowered to take Mr. Packlepoose ashore at 
Jiddah, which is a port of the Red Sea. 

The appearance of the automobillyboat 
caused a great excitement in Jiddah, it was 
so unlike anything the people had ever seen 
before, and when they saw Mr. Packlepoose, 
they supposed the strange, new craft was his. 
As soon as he stepped ashore a crowd of 
people, ranging from little toddlers just able 
to walk up to old men with gray beards, 
[ 127 ] 


JUST THEN 


surrounded him and cried, “Backsheesh! 
backsheesh! ” which was their way of demand- 
ing money. 

Mr. Packlepoose held his head high and 
walked straight through them, but very soon 
he was stopped by a soldier in turban, jacket 
and short, wide trousers. Then a customs 
officer came forward and demanded to know 
whether Mr. Packlepoose had any pearls. 
Mr. Packlepoose bowed. The officer told 
him there was a duty on pearls and Mr. 
Packlepoose bowed again, not knowing what 
else to do. 

You will remember that Mr. Packlepoose 
had no money, except the few small coins 
which Gobbo had gathered for him and these 
were in the wet clothes he had taken off. 
He was now dressed in the gorgeous gar- 
ments of the Ram jam, but had no money and 
nothing of any value except the Great White 
Pearl and Gobbo. 

The automobillyboat now picked up its 
small boat and started off. A small, swift 
[ 128 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


felucca and a steamer, which happened to be 
in the harbor, started to give chase but the 
automobillyboat ran away from them like a 
bicycle from a pair of lame ducks. Mr. 
Packlepoose wished he had stayed on her, 
for it didn’t look as if he were going to get 
along very well at Jiddah. 

“ Duty,” demanded the Turkish official. 

“No money,” said Mr. Packlepoose. Then 
the Turk demanded his pearl and Mr. Packle- 
poose slowly drew it out of his pocket. 

It had the same effect upon the official that 
it had had upon the Ram jam. If it had been 
a common pearl, the officer might have stolen 
it for himself, but it was so large and round 
and pure that no one less than a monarch 
might hope to keep it or sell it without 
suspicion. The official looked out to sea at 
the disappearing automobillyboat and looked 
at Mr. Packlepoose’s clothes and at the pearl. 
Then he took a deep breath and bowed almost 
to the ground, for he thought Mr. Packle- 
poose must be a prime minister at the very 
[ 129 ] 


JUST THEN 


least. “ If your lordship would be so kind 
as to allow your lordship’s servant to see your 
lordship’s passport,” he said, pointing to the 
scroll which Mr. Packlepoose held in his 
hand. 

Mr. Packlepoose handed it over and this is 
what the official read: — 

Know all men that this is 
The Packlepoose of USA, 
who bears the Great White Pearl to the 
Grand Sherif and who is even a better story 
teller than is 

(Signed) The Ramjam of Squat. 

Then there was a great scurrying to and 
fro. A feast was brought for Mr. Packle- 
poose and when he had eaten, camels were 
brought and the finest and best knelt before 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

There seemed nothing for Mr. Packlepoose 
to do but to get on, though he didn’t want 
to at all. But he couldn’t explain having the 
Great White Pearl and the scroll from the 
[ 130 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Ram jam, unless he pretended, at least, to be 
going to Mecca and the Grand Sherif. So 
Mr. Packlepoose got on the camel and the 
camel lifted up and Mr. Packlepoose pitched 
forward and backward and away they went, 
Mr. Packlepoose, his camel and his escort 
of five Bedouins similarly mounted. 

Mr. Packlepoose sat and rocked back and 
forth till he was seasick. “ Wouldn’t Bumpy- 
bambooney laugh if she could see me now,” 
he said to Gobbo and though Gobbo didn’t 
understand, he seemed to sympathize. They 
went over twenty miles the first day and 
camped in the desert at night. In the morn- 
ing the chief of the Bedouins pretended that 
his camel was better than Mr. Packlepoose’s 
and he insisted that they change. Mr. Packle- 
poose didn’t know the difference so he changed 
camels with the chief and for a while he got 
along very well, but in the afternoon the 
camel got tired and ugly. Mr. Packlepoose 
didn’t understand camels and the more he 
tried to make it go the worse it got. Just 
[ 131 ] 


JUST THEN 


as they got in sight of Mecca, the beast 
dropped to his knees, Mr. Packlepoose pitched 
forward and the camel turned its head and 
bit savagely at Mr. Packlepoose, catching 
him in the leg. Luckily for Mr. Packlepoose, 
the velvet of his trousers was thick and the 
animal only nipped his leg, but tore a piece 
right out of the trousers and swallowed it. 

Mr. Packlepoose slipped off the beast and 
vowed he would walk the rest of the way 
to Mecca, which he did. As soon as he 
entered the gates of the city, he sent a 
messenger to the Grand Sherif with the scroll 
the Ram jam had given him and the Grand 
Sherif summoned him into his presence at 
once. “ Now,” thought Mr. Packlepoose, “ in 
return for the Great White Pearl, he can 
hardly do less than to give me anything in 
the world in exchange and I shall ask him for 
a caravan to the coast and a ship to America, 
or enough money to get there in first-class 
style myself.” 

The Grand Sherif was a yellowish, brown- 
[ 132 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


ish man, with three parallel gashes on each 
cheek. He didn’t seem very grand to Mr. 
Packlepoose, but he seemed very eager over 
something. The first thing he did was to 
ask to see the Great White Pearl. Mr. 
Packlepoose put his hand into his pocket to 
get it and found it gone. The camel had 
bitten it out of his pocket and swallowed it. 

And there was Mr. Packlepoose without 
his pearl and without money, away over there 
in Arabia, and Bumpybambooney was won- 
dering where he was and wished so much she 
had never told him to go away. 


[ 133 ] 


XIII 


TO MAKE A CAMEL THROW UP, SHOULD HE HAVE 
AN EMETIC TO EACH STOMACH? THE STORY- 
TELLER TO THE GRAND SHERIF MEETS THE 
KINGKICKER OF KIOWA AND THE SACRED 
BLACK STONE IS STOLEN 


Pearl?” demanded the Grand 



Sherif. 


The camel swallowed it,” an- 


swered Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ What camel? ” 

“The camel I rode from Jiddah.” 

“ Where is this camel? ” 

“ I have no idea. After it tried to bite me 
and dumped me off, I walked into the city 
and the Bedouins took charge of it.” 

“ Summon every camel in the city!” com- 
manded the Grand Sherif. “ Lead them be- 
fore this man. Let him pick out the camel 
with the Pearl, or let him fail at his peril. 
What sort of a looking camel was it? ” 


[ 134 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Now if it had a horse or a dog, or some 
animal with which Mr. Packlepoose was 
familiar, he could have described it. But a 
camel! all camels looked alike to him and he 
could only answer, “ Why, it was a sort of a 
dusty-looking camel and it had a hump and 
yellow eyes and wobbly lips and — and it 
looked like — like — well, like a camel, you 
know.” 

When they brought the string of several 
dozen camels before him, they all looked so 
much alike to his eyes that he burst out laugh- 
ing and declared that he couldn’t tell one 
from the other. 

But it was no laughing matter. The Grand 
Sherif declared that if Mr. Packlepoose 
couldn’t pick out the camel so that the Pearl 
could be found that he would be held as a 
slave. 

“ How would you get the Pearl if I found 
the camel?” protested Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Cut him open,” roared the Grand Sherif, 
“ as I would you, if you had swallowed it.” 

[ 135 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ Why not give every camel an emetic, 
then? ” asked Mr. Packlepoose. 

The Grand Sherif was tickled with the idea, 
but as every camel has four stomachs and 
there were so many camels and he gave every 
camel an emetic to each of its stomachs, they 
ran out of emetics before they ran out of 
camels and the Great White Pearl was not 
found. 

So the Grand Sherif would not let Mr. 
Packlepoose go, and it would have done him 
no good if he had been released as he had 
no money, no friends, and no way to get 
across the desert. 

Because of this he was allowed a great 
deal of freedom, though held as a slave. 
The Sherif remembered the words of the 
Ram jam and as all Eastern peoples are very 
fond of stories, he kept Mr. Packlepoose as 
Story Teller of his Household. This was 
all right as long as Mr. Packlepoose could 
think of new stories or remember old ones, 
but you know you can keep drawing water 
[ 136 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


from a cistern until it runs dry, if no new 
rain comes to fill it again. Mr. Packlepoose 
began to run dry of stories. One day, the 
Grand Sherif grew very disagreeable and 
threatened to sell Mr. Packlepoose into the 
interior of Arabia, unless he told him a 
dozen new stories that same evening. Mr. 
Packlepoose knew that if that were done, he 
would never get away from Arabia at all, 
so he resolved to run away, though where 
he should run, he didn’t know. 

It happened that there was great excite- 
ment in the Holy City (as Mecca is called) 
that day. The Sultan of Turkey was ex- 
pected to make his pilgrimage to Mecca and 
to worship before the Sacred Black Stone in 
the Kaaba. Now the Sultan, of course, is 
the Grand Seigneur, the ruler of all the 
Turks and Arabs and all Mohammedan peo- 
ples, while the Grand Sherif is the descendant 
of the Prophet, the ruler of the Holy City 
and the head of the Mohammedan Church, so 
you can see there would naturally be a rivalry 
[ 137 ] 


JUST THEN 

between them and a dispute of authority in 
Mecca. 

The Grand Sherif was very anxious to 
display his new Story Teller to the Sultan 
and so he was especially angry when Mr. 
Packlepoose became empty of stories and de- 
clared he would tell no more. Mr. Packle- 
poose knew of this excitement, but there was 
another commotion, of which he knew noth- 
ing. The Sacred Black Stone was missing 
from the Kaaba ! The Stone was said to have 
been given by the angel Gabriel to Abraham 
and all true Musselmans turn toward it, in 
saying their prayers, no matter in what part 
of the world they may be. The Grand 
Sherif would rather have lost his best eye 
than to have had the Sacred Black Stone 
disappear at such a time, but gone it was. 
So carefully had it been treasured that it 
was imbedded in the wall of the Kaaba, but 
now there was nothing but a hole where the 
stone had been. 

You may be sure that the Grand Sherif 
[ 138 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


was in a very bad humor and it was a 
very bad time for anyone in the city to make 
any suspicious movement, but Mr. Packle- 
poose had made up his mind to run away 
and one time looked as good to him as 
another. 

So he started for the city gate, deter- 
mined to hide in the mountains and to trust 
to luck. As he was going along with his 
head down, he heard a voice hail him in a 
low tone, “Hey there! You look as if 
you could talk United States, if you had 
to.” 

Mr. Packlepoose looked up and saw the 
strangest figure he had ever seen in Mecca. 
He wouldn’t have been so strange in Wyom- 
ing, or Oklahoma, but in Mecca he was odd 
enough. He was mounted on a wiry broncho 
and he led a big black mule, carrying on each 
side a canvas-covered pack, which seemed, to 
Mr. Packlepoose’s eye, to contain something 
with wheels. Pie wore a long knife in his 
belt and a rawhide lariat at the horn of his 
[ 139 ] 


JUST THEN 


.Mexican saddle. “ Who on earth are you? ” 
asked Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ I am the Kingkicker of Kiowa,” answered 
the other. 

“ What in the name of common sense is 
that?” 

“ What’s there funny about it?” asked the 
Kingkicker. “ Some fellows collect postage- 
stamps and coins, some the paintings of Old 
Masters. Some people spend all their lives 
chasing bugs and butterflies and some chasing 
dollars. I’ve got all the dollars I want and 
I don’t care for bugs and oil-paintings, but 
I do like to kick kings. Nothing spiteful 
about it, you understand. I just like to hand 
’em a swat, just to say I’ve done it.” 

“ Tell me all about it,” begged Mr. Packle- 
poose. “ It sounds like a new bunch of 
stories, and a new lease of life.” 

“ Well,” said the Kingkicker modestly, 
“ The King of England was easy. He is a 
high-up Mason, you know, and so am I, so I 
just invented a thirty-fourth degree and what 
[ 140 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


I did to him in the initiation was a plenty. 
The President of France is a Frenchman, as 
you may know, and the French have a box- 
ing game in which they box with their feet 
instead of their hands. I got the president to 
explain this to me and in the course of it, 
I managed to get in a kick at him. The 
King of Spain fell out of his box at the bull- 
fight one day and I dropped into the ring 
and lassooed the bull just before it ran 
over him. In the scrimmage, I pretended I 
had to push the king out of the way with my 
foot, which was enough to score. I got the 
Czar of Russia interested in American foot- 
ball and we organized a team among the 
Grand Dukes and such, and of course in the 
game it was easy to kick the Czar instead 
of the ball. With the Emperor of Austria 
it was harder, but what’s bothering me now is 
how to reach this fellow they call the Grand 
Sherif and the Sultan. Do you know any 
way I can get to see the G. S.? ” 

“ Why, he’s the man for whom I want the 
[ 141 ] 


JUST THEN 

stories you’ve been telling me,” answered Mr. 
Packlepoose. 

“No, you don’t!” cried the Kingkicker. 
“ You’d spoil my game entirely if he knew 
what I was about beforehand. Tell you what! 
You get me the chance to see the Grand 
Sherif and I’ll give you a chance so you’ll 
never have to see him again.” 

“ That’s easy,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 
“ Take this scroll and send it him and he’ll 
admit you, or wait till to-morrow morning 
and you can see him and the Sultan at pray- 
ers in the Mosque.” 

“ Good enough,” said the Kingkicker. 
“ Now put this hunk of rock in your clothes 
and hide it somewhere up in the hills. They’ll 
do anything in the world to get it back.” 

“The Sacred Black Stone!” whispered 
Mr. Packlepoose. “ It’s death to any un- 
believer who touches it. How did you get 
it out of the wall of the Kaaba?” 

“ Oh, I pried it out with my bowie knife 
and a little nitro-glycerine,” said the King- 
[ 142 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


kicker carelessly. “ Course they’ll kill you, 
if they catch you with it, but you might as 
well be dead as a slave in this beastly place. 
I’d go with you right now, only I’ve simply 
got to kick the Grand Sherif before I leave. 
Good-by. You’d better hurry.” 

I doubt if it would ever have occurred to 
Mr. Packlepoose to have done so audacious 
a thing as to steal the Sacred Black Stone 
out of the Kaaba, but now that it was in 
his hands, he thought to do just as the strange 
man, who called himself the Kingkicker, told 
him to. He hurried to the northern gate, the 
Bab-el-Mala, but, as might have been ex- 
pected, the loss of the Sacred Black Stone 
was known to the authorities and everyone 
who attempted to leave the city was seized 
and searched. 

That night all Mecca knew that the Sacred 
Black Stone had been found upon the person 
of the Story Teller to the Grand Sherif and 
that he was to be publicly beheaded the next 
day, immediately after morning prayers. It 
[ 143 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


would be a fine sight for the Sultan and the 
Grand Sherif, but it would be rather hard 
upon Mr. Packlepoose and rather sad for the 
little girl who had told him to go away, pro- 
vided she should ever find it out. 


[ 144 ] 


XIV 


THE KINGKICKER DOES HIS DAY’S WORK. THE 
MAN IN THE GREEN MASK STOPS TO SPIT UPON 
HIS HANDS AND THE ONE WITH THE SNAKE 
TURBAN STEPS OUT OF THE DEAD HOUSE 

E ARLY next morning Mr. Packle- 
poose was dragged out of the prison, 
his hands were tied behind him and 
his feet bound together with a strong rope, 
just long enough to permit him to walk. An 
Arab with a green mask and a long, sharp 
scimetar signaled him to go forward and 
drove him to an open space where a scaffold 
had been erected. On the scaffold was a 
block covered with purple cloth and Mr. 
Packlepoose knew it was the place where he 
was to be beheaded. He had been taken 
there early, else his jailer could not have got 
him there at all, for already the crowd was 
beginning to gather, notwithstanding that 
[ 145 ] 


JUST THEN 


the Caliph and the Sherif were to say pray- 
ers in the Great Mosque that morning. 

They had chosen the most open space they 
could find, but no space could be large 
enough to accommodate the crowd. Some 
were passing by on the way to the Great 
Mosque. Some were not even going to the 
mosque, but were choosing places to see the 
execution. In the surrounding houses, win- 
dows were rented for the spectacle and even 
the roofs of the houses were filling up with 
women, for Mr. Packlepoose caught glimpses 
of moving figures through the lattices. Per- 
haps you know that the roofs of the houses 
in the East are a favorite resort for the 
women and to keep the women from being 
seen the roofs are surrounded by lattice- 
work. There was just one house in which 
nobody had appeared as yet. All its win- 
dows were closed and it looked as deserted 
and lonesome as Mr. Packlepoose felt. 

As the people passed, they flung words of 
anger and revenge at the prisoner. “ Thief! ” 
[ 146 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


yelled one, in a white turban. “Robber!” 
cried another in a red turban. “ Dog of an 
infidel! ” screamed a third in a yellow turban. 

One passer-by wore a turban which was 
the oddest Mr. Packlepoose had ever seen. 
It looked like a snake or a coil of rope. As 
the wearer passed, he turned toward Mr. 
Packlepoose, shook his fist at him and snarled 
like an angry dog, “ Cheer up, pal! Soon 
as I get my day’s work done, I’ll be back.” 
Mr. Packlepoose was amazed to hear the 
words in English, but the speaker had hurried 
on towards the Great Mosque. 

When the Sultan and the Sherif entered 
the Great Mosque that morning, there was 
a terrible crush of “ the Faithful,” as the 
Moslems are called, to get in. The King- 
kicker had plenty of money and he bribed 
his way through the crowd and got a good 
place where he could see everything. He saw 
that the Stone was back in place, so he knew 
why Mr. Packlepoose was where he had just 
seen him. 


[ 147 ] 


JUST THEN 


There was a great dispute between the 
Sultan and the Grand Sherif as to who should 
be imam , that is, who should have the honor 
of saying the prayers and leading the devo- 
tions. Neither the Sultan nor the Sherif 
would give in, so it was agreed that they 
should lead the prayers together. They knelt 
side by side before the recovered Sacred 
Black Stone and bumped their foreheads on 
the ground, reciting their prayers vigorously, 
each trying to talk louder than the other and 
the multitude joining in. While everybody 
was in this position, the Kingkicker picked 
his way between the worshipers, ran softly 
up behind the Caliph (or Sultan) and the 
Sherif and gave each of them a quick kick. 
Each gave a little lurch forward, but neither 
opened his eyes or raised his head and of 
course no one else did so. The Kingkicker 
slipped back into the crowd undetected and 
after it was all over, the Caliph and the 
Sherif each claimed that the Angel Gabriel 
had given him a signal mark of his favor 
[ 148 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


during the prayer and then they had another 
dispute, as each proudly claimed that he had 
been kicked the harder. 

“ Ho, ho! ” said the Kingkicker to himself. 
“ Now that my day’s work is done, I must 
look for that fellow who talks United States 
and see what I can do for him.” 

The Kingkicker certainly had no trouble 
in finding him, for everybody now turned 
toward the scaffold, where the Robber of 
the Sacred Black Stone was to have his head 
cut off. Mr. Packlepoose wondered if the 
Man with the Snake Turban would come 
back. Not that it would make any difference, 
but he would like to have his last moments 
helped by the sight of a friendly face. The 
time approached. The multitude crowded 
around. Everywhere was a mass of heads 
and faces, except in the Dead House, which 
was still deserted. 

Now the Executioner with the Green Mask 
motioned to Mr. Packlepoose to ascend the 
scaffold. Now he signed him to lay his head 
[ 149 ] 


JUST THEN 


on the block. Now he raised his long, sharp 
scimetar in air. 

Mr. Packlepoose looked into the eyes of the 
Green Mask and saw no mercy there. In a 
window he saw the Grand Sherif and the 
Caliph turn to each other and smile. They 
seemed only interested in seeing how well 
the executioner would do his work. 

The Man in the Green Mask lowered his 
sword a moment to spit upon his hands. Mr. 
Packlepoose thought idly that he saw a glim- 
mer of life in the Dead House. The multi- 
tude held its breath. The Grand Sherif sent 
a word of impatience to the executioner. 
Once more he swung his sword aloft. 

Just then something happened. 

From a door in the lattice on the roof of 
the Dead House, a man stepped. It was the 
Man with the Snake Turban. Taking a 
knife from his belt he hurled it like an arrow 
toward the executioner. It pierced his arm 
and the executioner dropped his sword with 
a cry of pain. The surprised Mr. Packle- 
[ 150 ] 



Once more he swung his sword aloft. 







SOMETHING HAPPENED 


poose got upon his feet. A cry of super- 
stitious terror went up from the crowd, for 
they had not seen whence the knife had come. 
It looked to them as if it were a dart from 
heaven. 

The man on the roof took off his Snake 
Turban and swung it around in his hand. A 
noose shot out and fell over Mr. Packle- 
poose and tightened around his body. Slowly 
he rose into the air and in a minute or two 
he was on the roof of the Dead House with 
the Kingkicker. Seizing another knife, the 
Kingkicker cut Mr. Packlepoose’s bonds and 
hustled him down through the house and into 
a back room. There stood two motor-cycles 
which the Kingkicker had carried there on 
his mule, for just such an emergency. “We 
must make a dash for it,” he said, and dash 
they did. 

The appearance of the two men on those 
strange panting machines completed the ter- 
ror of the Moslems and they dashed wildly 
out of the way. Once started, nothing could 
[ 151 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


stop the riders and the Moslems were so con- 
fused and crowded that the few who tried 
to pursue fell over each other. 

Mr. Packlepoose and the Kingkicker 
reached Jiddah that same morning and to 
their great joy a steamer stood off the shore 
and her stacks were pouring out black smoke 
as if she were getting up steam. 

The two men hired a small felucca to take 
them out and put them aboard the steamer. 

But Gobbo! Gobbo was left behind and 
while he had a good home with the Grand 
Sherif and was only a little, gray monkey, 
you have no idea how badly Mr. Packlepoose 
felt to leave him. 


[ 152 ] 


XV 


WHILE BUMPYBAMBOONEY CHANGES HER WISH, 
CAPTAIN SMALLGROG, KNUCKLENOSED NICK, 
BANTY JIM, LARRY THE LOBSTER AND MR. 
BUMPS MAKE MORE TROUBLE FOR MR. 
PACKLEPOOSE. THE KINGKICKER SCORES 
AGAIN. BUMP ! 

C APTAIN SMALLGROG of the 
Arfandarf was a little man with a 
crook in his knees, as if he were just 
about to make a curtsy. The fact is he had 
been a dancing master in his youth and had 
never got over it. Perhaps he should not have 
taken the Kingkicker and Mr. Packlepoose 
aboard without passports, but the King- 
kicker shook a handful of gold in front of 
his nose and the captain liked the smell of it. 
So he tooL them aboard and stood on his 
bridge and called to his crew, as if he were 
calling off a quadrille: — 

[ 153 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ Take your places. Form a ring. 

Salute your captain; balance; swing! 

Man the capstan, all hands round; 

The Arfandarf is outward bound.” 

When Mr. Packlepoose heard the captain 
give his orders, he jumped in with the crew 
and helped haul up the anchor. 

During all this time, events happened so 
rapidly and in such a strange manner that 
Mr. Packlepoose had had no chance to send 
a message home since he had been at Naples. 
Strange as it may appear, you can see that 
this was so, if you will recollect that he was 
in an air-ship from Naples to Constantinople, 
in the automobillyboat from the Dardanelles 
to Jiddah, in slavery in Mecca and in such 
constant trouble between times that he had 
had no chance at all to send word to Mrs. 
Hockamaboury and Bumpybambooney, and, 
as I told you, Mr. Packlepoose and the King- 
kicker reached Jiddah just in time to catch 
the Arfandarf and without a breath to spare. 

When Mr. Packlepoose saw the British 
[ 154 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


flag on the Arfandarf , he was in hopes she 
was bound for England, but found instead 
that she was on the way to Australia. 

I consider it, therefore, as somewhat re- 
markable that that very evening (only it was 
morning in America) Bumpybambooney had 
been saying, “ Oh, I am so sorry I told my 
Papa Packlepoose to go away,” when she 
stopped short and said, more cheerfully, “I’m 
not going to cry about his going away any 
longer. I’m going to wish for him to come 
back.” 

And sure enough he was coming back, for 
Captain Smallgrog was even then standing 
on the good ship Arfandarf , doing a dancing 
step and singing to his crew. 

Captain Smallgrog was glad not only to 
get the Kingkicker for a passenger, because 
he had plenty of money, but he was glad to 
get Mr. Packlepoose, because the ship was 
short-handed and Mr. Packlepoose was will- 
ing to work his way. The Kingkicker wanted 
to pay for Mr. Packlepoose, too, but Mr. 

[ 155 ] 


JUST THEN 


Packlepoose said that he was already in debt 
to the Kingkicker and preferred to pay his 
way by working as one of the crew. 

And now the captain signaled the engine- 
room and the man at the wheel, singing out : — 

“ Give her two bells. Hold her ready. 

One bell, sou’ sou’ west, and steady; 

Give her all the steam there is; 

Three bells now and let her whiz!” 

Mr. Packlepoose went into the forecastle 
with the crew and the Kingkicker went into 
the cabin with the captain, where he spent 
most of his time trying to get the captain to 
run out of his course and take him to India. 
“ There are no kings in Australia for me to 
kick,” said he, “and I’ll be out of a job.” 

Mr. Packlepoose had never shipped as a 
sailor before, but he was willing to work and 
willing to learn, and it was not long before 
he was doing very well. All of us can do 
very well at almost anything, if only we try. 

The food was poor and the work was hard, 
but Mr. Packlepoose was on his way and he 
[ 156 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


was satisfied. But if he was satisfied, the 
most of the crew were not. As long as the 
Arfandarf was in the Red Sea, the captain 
behaved very decently, but when they got 
far on their way into the South Pacific Ocean, 
the food was so bad and the work was so 
hard that the men growled and grumbled a 
great deal. Besides the captain kept nagging 
at them because they weren’t graceful enough 
and tried to get them to two-step while shift- 
ing cargo and to schottische while holystoning 
the deck. 

So Knucklenosed Nick, Banty Jim and 
Larry the Lobster got up a petition to the 
captain and went around to all the crew to 
get them to sign it. Knucklenosed Nick, who 
had once been an iron-molder, demanded an 
eight-hour day, with no work after the whistle 
blew. During a fog, when the whistle blew 
every minute or two, he didn’t want to work 
at all. Banty Jim, who had formerly been in 
the British army, demanded jam for break- 
fast every day and Larry the Lobster, who 
[ 157 ] 


JUST THEN 


had a twinkle in his eye and had joined the 
mutiny because he thought there might be 
a fight, demanded five o’clock tea in the 
boiler-room every afternoon. 

All the crew signed the petition except Mr. 
Packlepoose who didn’t even look at it. “ I’m 
glad enough to be getting part way to Bum- 
pybambooney without causing any trouble,” 
he said. 

“ Aw, yer a scab,” said Knucklenosed 
Nick. 

“ You’re a bloomin’ bounder,” said Banty 
Jim. 

“ Maybe yez is a coward,” said Larry the 
Lobster. 

“ Hold on,” said Mr. Packlepoose good- 
naturedly, “ I can’t sign your petition, but 
I’ll present it for you.” 

Now to present the petition to the captain 
was just what the others were afraid to do, 
for a captain on the high seas is like a king 
in an absolute monarchy and his word is law 
for the crew. 


[ 158 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Mr. Packlepoose found the captain, the 
first mate, Mr. Bumps, the chief engineer and 
the Kingkicker playing cards in the cabin. 
He walked in and laid the petition in front 
of the captain. “ Bless me,” said the captain, 
“ my good man, couldn’t you bow a bit more 
gracefully and remove your cap?” 

“ Certainly,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ let 
us all remove our caps,” and he took off his 
own and the captain’s at the same time. “ I 
have a little petition from the crew. I may 
say that I have no complaint to make myself, 
but I am asked to show this to you.” 

“ Most extraordinary,” said the captain, 
holding it between his thumb and finger. 
“ Er — jam for breakfast — eight-hour day — 
five o’clock tea in boiler-room — most extraor- 
dinary. Er — what would you suggest, Mr. 
Bumps? ” 

Mr. Bumps was as much unlike the captain 
as an onion is unlike a huckleberry. He had 
been getting redder and redder and he now 
swelled up till he looked like the frog in the 
[ 159 ] 


JUST THEN 


fable. “ Do! ” he shouted. Leave the beg- 
gars to me! You, Packlepoose, back to your 
gang and tell them I’ll have every man 
flogged at the main mast, chained in the 
calaboose, keel-hauled and hung at the yard- 
arm if I hear another word of this nonsense.” 

“ Oh, say,” said the Kingkicker, “ if you’re 
going to hang anybody at the yard-arm, allow 
me to recommend my raw-hide lariat. It’s 
beautifully strong and works like greased 
lightning. He winked at Mr. Packlepoose, 
smiled at the captain and produced the lariat 
from under his chair. 

“ Surely,” said Mr. Packlepoose, who had 
lived in America all of his life, you know, 
“ surely you don’t deny the right of petition. 
Why, it’s the great principle of English and 
American liberty.” 

The captain made as if to utter a mild 
remark, but the mate yelled, “ Right of peti- 
tion! You double-decked idiot, don’t you 
know that the captain of a ship is an absolute 
king and that ” 


[ 160 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ You don’t say,” interrupted the King- 
kicker with a squeal of delight. He ran 
around behind the captain and gave him a 
kick which nearly lifted him off the floor. 
“ One more tally for me! ” he cried gleefully. 

The poor captain looked so bewildered, the 
Kingkicker so delighted, and the mate so 
furious that Mr. Packlepoose burst into a 
laugh. The mate turned purple. He seized 
a pistol and leveled it at Mr. Packlepoose, 
who stood perfectly still. The mate’s mouth 
worked as if he were trying to say something, 
before he pulled the trigger. He pointed the 
pistol at Mr. Packlepoose and pointed his 
hand at the door. 

Just then something happened. 

There was a sudden crash, a smash, a jar, 
a stop. Everybody was hurled from his feet. 
A cry arose on deck and they realized 
that the ship had struck a rock or a hidden 
reef. The captain scrambled up, hopped first 
on one foot, then on the -other and sang to 
the mate and the engineer: — 

[ 161 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ Reverse the screw and back her! 

Hard a port and tack her! 

She’s crumbling like a cracker! 

It’s against the law 
To take a chaw, 

Before you start to back her.” 

The four men rushed on deck. The 
crew were already lowering the boats. Larry 
the Lobster and Knucklenosed Nick had one 
and Banty Jim was hastening to join them, 
with a can of jam under each arm. 

If the captain were a king, he had lost his 
kingdom. Each one on board was looking 
out for himself. Mr. Packlepoose found 
himself in possession of a raft of water- 
tight cans inclosed together in a sort of 
crate. On his arm was the Kingkicker’s 
lariat. 

The boats had oars, but he had nothing to 
propel himself, nothing to make his raft go. 
The big boat settled lower and lower and the 
small boats pulled away to avoid the suction 
when she went down. Mr. Packlepoose’s raft 
bobbed like a cork in an eddy, but he man- 
[ 162 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

aged to stay on and it stayed on top of the 
water. 

So there was Mr. Packlepoose drifting on 
a raft in mid-ocean and poor little Bumpy- 
bambooney away over in America was trying 
to keep cheerful and to make herself believe 
that her papa was coming back. 


[ 163 ] 


XVI 


A LIVE MAN IS VERY GOOD FOR FISH-BAIT AND 
A BUNCH OF TIN CANS TIED TO THE TAIL OF 
A SEA-BEAST MAKES A FINE SHARKOMOBILE 



R. PACKLEPOOSE felt lone- 
some. 

The men in the boats had pulled 
away, either without seeing, or caring. The 
wreck was under water. All around was the 
limitless sea. He had no oar, no sail. He 
could only drift. 

How long he drifted he did not know. 
For a long time he lay, half-dazed, overcome 
by the hopelessness of it all. He saw no 
chance of ever getting to land and it looked 
as if he would stay there till he starved to 
death, or until a storm should arise and 
wash him off his frail craft. 

His raft was large enough for him to lie 
down and after a night’s rest, he felt some- 

[ 164 ] 



SOMETHING HAPPENED 

what refreshed and more hopeful, but very 
thirsty. As the day grew older and the sun 
rose higher, he grew more and more thirsty 
and the heat beat down upon his unprotected 
head. He leaned over the raft and dipped 
his head in the sea. 

As he did so, a huge, blue hulk rose 
through the water, a piggy looking eye 
showed for a moment, a white belly 
gleamed as the Thing turned over and a 
double row of terrible teeth snapped at 
his head. 

As Mr. Packlepoose darted back from the 
shark, a black fin showed above the water 
on the other side of the raft. There were 
two of them. He sat in a huddle in the 
middle of the raft, almost afraid to move, at 
first, and the big blue shark and the great 
white shark swam around and around — and 
waited. 

Mr. Packlepoose had read that a shark, 
especially the great white shark, will some- 
times follow a vessel for days and the sailors 
[ 165 ] 


JUST THEN 

believe it waits for someone to die and be 
thrown overboard. 

It is bad enough to have a shark follow- 
ing a full sized ship, but to watch one — or two 
— following a raft from which one could al- 
most touch them, is horrible. Mr. Packle- 
poose knew that he would not dare to go to 
sleep on the raft again, for if a hand or a 
foot should hang over the edge, one of the 
sharks would snap it off in a jiffy. 

Mr. Packlepoose sat still a long time, or it 
seemed long to him, and watched the big, cruel 
fishes swim around and around. “ If I could 
only swim like that, I could get to shore,” he 
thought. Then he laughed. “ If I could 
swim like that, I couldn’t live on shore,” 
he said aloud. 

The laugh made him feel better. So did 
the thought that after all he was a man and 
the sharks were only sharks. “If I can’t 
swim like those beggars, maybe I can make 
them swim for me,” he thought. 

His hand fell upon the Kingkicker’s lasso. 

[ 166 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


He took his knife from his pocket and cut 
the raw-hide in two. He tied one end to a 
corner of the raft and dropped the lasso end 
into the water. The blue shark saw him 
bending over the water and became curious. 
A flash of his tail and he swept past the 
corner of the raft. Mr. Packlepoose dodged 
back and the shark just grazed the lasso 
noose. Mr. Packlepoose became interested. 
“ Hurrah!” he said, “ I’ve got to be my own 
bait if I catch this fish!” 

The big, blue shark came around again. 
Mr. Packlepoose let an arm hang over into 
the water. Quick as a flash the big blue 
fish dashed at it. Mr. Packlepoose dodged 
back and gave a quick tug at the raw-hide. 
It tightened on the big fish just back of the 
terrible teeth and in front of the big fin. 
The big fish gave a plunge and the raft 
lurched through the water. 

Then Mr. Packlepoose rigged a lasso to 
the opposite corner of the raft and caught 
the great white shark the same way. The 
[ 167 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


great white shark is, perhaps, the most mus- 
cular animal that lives. As you know, it 
can keep up with steamships for days, or 
even weeks, swimming by day and by night, 
so it must be very, very strong and untiring. 

When the second shark was caught in the 
second noose, Mr. Packlepoose leaped to his 
feet and yelled with delight and the two 
sharks sped away like a couple of race- 
horses. Mr. Packlepoose now remembered 
another thing. Sharks are afraid of noise. 
Hearing the yells behind them and feeling 
the thongs around them, they dashed away 
in a straight line. “Hi! yi! yi!” yelled Mr. 
Packlepoose, “ Hurrah for my Sharkomo- 
bile! ” 


[ 168 ] 


XVII 


THE FEAST OF WHITE MAN’S DOG. HI! YI ! YI! 
AND HERE COMES THE GOD-OF-THE-WATERS. 
RED RAGS AND HERR SCHNITZ ARE GLAD 
ABOUT IT, TOO 



RROWHEAD ISLAND is one of 
the smaller of the great group known 
as the Philippines. It is shaped like 
an arrow-head, or like a narrow triangle, 
and has a deep inlet on the short side, the 
side where the shaft of the arrow would go 
in. The island rises almost straight out of 
the water on all sides, so that the only way 
to land upon it is through the inlet. More- 
over it is so densely covered with palms, 
banana-trees, rice grass, etc., that you could 
hardly force your way through it without 
cutting a path. Close to the water’s edge 
this vegetation grows, so that the whole 

[ 169 ] 


JUST THEN 


island looks like one big green plant, pushed 
up from underneath the sea. 

On one side of the inlet, a little way in- 
land, the native Igorrotes had cut out a 
clearing. In the middle of this clear space is, 
or was, the crudest sort of a hut. Down 
in the meadow of your Uncle Ezra’s farm, 
you have, perhaps, seen a cow-shed made of 
four upright posts and a rude roof covered 
with hay or straw. This temple upon Arrow- 
head Island was very much like your uncle’s 
cow-shelter. Under it a strange thing was 
happening. At least, it would look strange 
to a white man and did look strange to the 
white man who was watching it,, Herr 
Schnitz was his name and he wasn’t watching 
the scene because he wanted to, either. 

Herr Schnitz was tied to a tree and his 
dog, his beloved Irish setter, was also tied. 
The poor dog lay in the middle of the open 
hut and a dozen naked Igorrotes danced 
around him. Herr Schnitz fired enough 
guttural German at them to have ripped 
[ 170 ] 



A dozen naked Igorrotes danced around hi 


lm. 













SOMETHING HAPPENED 


open a gun-boat. To this the brassy-looking 
natives paid no attention, but danced and 
shouted and swung their spears. They were 
thoroughly happy. They were going to eat 
a dog — a White Man’s Dog. One of them 
pricked the dog with his spear. The dog 
yelped with pain, the German stormed with 
anger, the Igorrotes shrieked with delight. 

There was an answering shriek. It came 
from the ocean. “Hi! yi! hurrah! giddap! 
hi! yi! hi! yi!” came floating across the water. 

" Gott sei dank ! " exclaimed the German. 
The Igorrotes seized their spears, their bows 
and their long shields, crept to the opening 
and peeped out. A man, a white man, was 
coming across the sea, headed for the inlet. 
He stood straight up on his craft and was 
coming like the wind, yet there was no sail, 
no puff of steam, nor even the pant of a 
gasoline motor boat, such as Herr Schnitz 
had come in. The savages gazed in surprise 
which quickly changed to terror. There is 
always something terrifying in what we can- 
[ 171 ] 


JUST THEN 


not understand. This strange, shouting, hi- 
yi-ing being who came over the sea like a 
god of the waters sounded like an American. 
Of Americans they had learned to be afraid. 

As you remember, the water was deep and 
the two shores of the bay narrowed toward 
this inlet. Quite naturally the sharks pointed 
toward the inlet. “Hi yi! hi yi!” shouted 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

The Igorrotes waited for no nearer ac- 
quaintance, but crawled away into the jun- 
gle, like so many rabbits into a brier-patch. 
The sharks darted into the narrowing inlet. 
The raft wedged between its banks opposite 
the open space. Mr. Packlepoose jumped 
ashore and saw the whimpering dog. He had 
a tender heart for all animals and in an in- 
stant the dog was free. The grateful animal, 
recognizing a friend, crouched at the feet of 
his rescuer, his head between his paws and 
his tail thumping the ground. “ Why, you 
dear old bundle of red rags!” cried Mr. 
Packlepoose, patting him, for that was what 
[ 172 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

the bunch of reddish, silky-haired dog looked 
like to him. 

“ Bitte, wollen Sie so gut sein auch meine 
Seile abzuschneidenV’ said a voice. Mr. 
Packlepoose looked around and saw Herr 
Schnitz. He didn’t understand the words, 
but he comprehended their meaning at once. 
Of course he released Herr Schnitz and Herr 
Schnitz’s dog was again grateful. Herr 
Schnitz stood bowing to Mr. Packlepoose. 
Mr. Packlepoose stood bowing to Herr 
Schnitz. Neither of them could under- 
stand the other. The dog understood 
both. He pulled at Herr Schnitz with 
his teeth. 

“ Yes, yes,” said Herr Schnitz, in German. 
“ Thou hast right, my dear dog. From here 
must we immediately away go. Here have 
I one good motor-boat if these accursed 
Igorrotes not it sunk have. Therein can we 
toward my steam-yacht, which is somewhere 
these islands around, to fly. With great 
foolishness attempted I, with my little dog, 
[ 173 ] 


JUST THEN 


on this island water to find. Perhaps to me 
nothing happened have would, but my little 
dog! already he eaten was, if you so beauti- 
fully arrived not had.” 

Mr. Packlepoose understood the dog better 
than he did his master. The dog wanted to 
get away before the Igorrotes got over their 
scare and came back and he didn’t stand and 
talk about it. “ I’m with you, Red Rags,” 
said he. 

The two men and the dog ran down to 
the bank and, sure enough, Herr Schnitz’s 
gasoline launch was alongside, nearly hidden 
by overhanging branches. The raft blocked 
the inlet in front of it, but the shark team 
had disappeared. Doubtless as soon as the 
raft was held fast, the two big fish had 
broken their lines and escaped. Mr. Packle- 
poose was glad of it. He was through with 
them and he didn’t want even a shark to be 
put to needless torment. To get the raft 
out of the road and the launch into motion 
was no great trouble. 

[ 174 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Red Rags gave a bark of defiance as soon 
as they were out of reach of land. Then he 
snuggled down at the feet of Mr. Packle- 
poose for he seemed to know that he owed 
his life to the strange man and not to his 
master. 


[ 175 ] 


/ 


XVIII 


THE BUTTERFLY CHASES THE TERRIBLE BIRD 
AND MRS. HOCKAMABOURY RECEIVES A 
STRANGE MESSAGE FROM PAPA PACKLE- 
POOSE, WHILE RED RAGS FINDS A WOW-WOW- 
WALLABY AND WISHES HE HADN’T 



HE name of Herr Schnitz’s yacht 


was Der Schmetterling, or The But - 


fly and she was on her way to 
Australia to find a Dinornis. But butterflies 
flit this way and that and so Herr Schnitz’s 
Butterfly had flitted into the southern end 
of the Philippines, and hence had picked up 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

Of course Mr. Packlepoose didn’t want to 
go to Australia to chase a Dinornis. As 
soon as he and Herr Schnitz (as well as Red 
Rags) reached Der Schmetterling they got 
along all right, for several on board could 
talk both German and English, besides other 


[ 176 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


languages, and they talked about the Di- 
nornis all the time in all of them. 

Dinornis, you know, means The Terrible 
Bird, and The Terrible Bird, when it lived, 
was almost as big as an elephant and it 
flourished in New Zealand a few centuries 
ago, before the white man came. Now New 
Zealand was at one time part of Australia 
and Australia is so large and the interior is 
so hard to get at that it has never been 
thoroughly explored. 

Herr Schnitz believed that somewhere in 
the wilds of Australia, The Terrible Bird still 
lived and if he could catch one he would be 
famous for all time. Herr Schnitz was a 
very agreeable German gentleman, but he in- 
sisted that everyone should be as interested 
in the Dinornis as he was. He took a great 
fancy to Mr. Packlepoose and presented Red 
Rags to him as a token of his good will. He 
was very anxious to have Mr. Packlepoose 
help hunt the Dinornis, for he said that a 
man who could make a Sharkomobile in the 
[ 177 ] 


JUST THEN 


middle of an ocean and make it take him 
to land might very well find a Dinornis in 
the middle of a continent and make it take 
him to the sea. He offered to pay Mr. 
Packlepoose to go with him and as Mr. 
Packlepoose had lost the little he had had in 
the wreck of the Arfandarf, he was glad of 
the chance to earn enough money to pay his 
passage home. So Der S chmetterling landed 
at Brisbane and Mrs. Hockamaboury and 
Bumpybambooney were rejoiced, but a little 
puzzled, to receive a cable message, which 
said : — 

“ Looking for extinct bird in Australia. 
Home soon as found. 

“ Papa Packlepoose.” 

Herr Schnitz, his companions and Mr. 
Packlepoose at once procured horses and 
struck out for the interior. A sturdy little 
horse named Velvet fell to Mr. Packle- 
poose’s use. 

It was very hot in Australia and some 

[ 178 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


parts were very dry and barren. In other 
parts they found great rivers which presently 
lost themselves in huge marshes. Again they 
would come to dense forests and rough moun- 
tains. It was Herr Schnitz’s idea that some 
of the natives could tell him where The Terri- 
ble Bird still lived, if they only would, so 
the little party wandered from tribe to tribe. 
Herr Schnitz would draw a picture of the 
kangaroo, or the flying fox, or the fork- 
tongued lizard and then point in different 
directions, with an inquiring look and ges- 
ture, as if to ask which way the animal 
could be found. These the blacks would 
recognize and would nod and point and utter 
a few words. Then Herr Schnitz would 
draw a picture of the Dinornis and the 
blacks would look blank and shake their 
heads, or else say nothing. 

There was one black, whom they had 
found in Brisbane, and who knew some Eng- 
lish and who was with them from the first. 
He was strong, rather short, had a black, 
[ 179 ] 


JUST THEN 


bushy beard and large welts or scars on his 
breast. He wore as few clothes as possible 
and the greatest favor they could do him was 
to allow him to carry one of the guns. Mr. 
Packlepoose called him Bushbeard. 

They had expected Bushbeard to be of 
much service in talking to the blacks, but 
soon found that every new tribe knew noth- 
ing of the other tribes’ languages, and they 
could understand Bushbeard no better than 
they could Mr. Packlepoose or Herr Schnitz. 
Bushbeard never sought out the other natives 
for them and the natives seemed more sus- 
picious of him than of the white men. 

One day, after a hard morning’s travel, 
they came to a deep ravine. A mountain 
seemed to have split in two and formed a 
pleasant valley, through which a pretty 
stream trickled. One side of the valley 
sloped gently, but the other rose straight 
as the wall of a room and higher than a 
steeple. It was so pleasant that they rested 
here for several days. Mr. Packlepoose 
[ 180 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


took Velvet and rode around and up to the 
top of the mountain. You remember that 
the mountain was split in two, so naturally 
the split part was a high precipice in the 
middle and sloped down to the level, at the 
entrance of the valley. Mr. Packlepoose 
found a path, or trail, running down the 
hill alongside the cliff. In fact, these paths 
were not uncommon in the vicinity and 
showed that the place must be a favorite 
hunting ground of the blacks. 

One day they missed Bushbeard, but early 
the next morning he came back and brought 
three men and two women with him. Their 
breasts were gashed like Bushbeard’s. For 
the matter of that, nearly all the natives they 
had met had had some such marks, but these 
black breasts were scarred exactly like the 
breast of Bushbeard. 

Herr Schnitz jumped up and went through 
his usual performance. At the picture of 
the kangaroo, the blacks pointed one way. 
At the picture of the flying fox, they pointed 
[ 181 ] 


JUST THEN 


another. At the picture of the fork-tongued 
lizard, still another. Then Herr Schnitz drew 
the picture of the Dinornis. The blacks hesi- 
tated and Bushbeard broke in with a short, 
sharp word. Then they pointed North, 
South, East and West. One even pointed 
upward. Herr Schnitz was much excited. 
He believed that he had found the home 
of the living Dinornis. He even believed 
that perhaps The Terrible Bird could fly, 
though all naturalists agreed that it had 
practically no wings at all. 

Herr Schnitz divided the party into pairs 
and arranged that each couple should start 
in a different direction to look for the 
Dinornis and all should return to the camp 
in the ravine before dusk. 

It so happened that Mr. Packlepoose was 
without a partner, but he said he would take 
Bed Rags who would be as good as a man, 
or better. Away they went, the Germans 
greatly excited, Mr. Packlepoose rather 
amused. His route lay around the straight, 
[ 182 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


high cliff, and he rode Velvet leisurely and 
rested often. “ I guess an extinct bird can 
be found just as well by taking it easy as 
by hurrying, eh Red Rags?” he said. 

He worked around to the other side of 
the mountain and gradually found his way 
toward the top. The afternoon wore away 
before he knew it and presently he found that 
he had wound around so much he didn’t 
know where he was. Then Mr. Packlepoose 
thought it time to hasten a bit, but Velvet 
wasn’t in nearly as much of a hurry and 
Red Rags wasn’t in any hurry at all. 

It was Red Rags that caused all the 
trouble. He did it, not by finding the 
Dinornis, but by finding the kangaroo. Red 
Rags was just foolish enough to attempt to 
chase it. Perhaps Red Rags was part dingo, 
because the dingo is the native Australian 
dog and is reddish in color and is the foe 
of the kangaroo. Herr Schnitz always said 
that Red Rags got his color from his mother 
who was an Irish setter but then maybe his 
[ 183 ] 


JUST THEN 


father was a dingo. Who knows? Surely 
he must have been part dingo, or how could 
he have known the kangaroo, for he ran 
after it and said, “Woo! woo! kangaroo-roo- 
roo! ” Now the kangaroo is as tall as a man 
and while he usually runs away, or rather 
leaps away, he can fight if he is cornered 
and sometimes when he isn’t cornered. This 
time the kangaroo ran. 

Well Red Rags was as glad as a man. 
Some men, and boys, too, you know, are just 
like Red Rags and always want to be chasing 
something. “Wow, wow!” barked Red 
Rags. “Here’s a wow- wow- wallaby, wow!” 

Yes, Red Rags must surely have been part 
dingo, or else how could he have known any- 
thing about a wallaby, for the wallaby is the 
little, timid member of the kangaroo family. 
Of course this “ old man ” kangaroo of the 
giant kangaroo family was angry when he 
was called a wallaby, just as a big boy is 
angry when he is called a baby, but he pre- 
tended he wasn’t angry at first. He paid 
[ 184 ] 


The 


kangaroo hacked up against a tree. 



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SOMETHING HAPPENED 


just enough attention to make Red Rags 
gladder than ever. The kangaroo went 
bounding out of the bush, as if he thought 
black hunters were after him with spears 
and boomerangs and dingoes. As I said 
he was an “ old man ” kangaroo and very 
wise and had often been hunted. 

But Red Rags didn’t know that. He 
thought the kangaroo was still frightened 
and so ran after him, barking, 

“Woo! woo! kangaroo! woo, woo, wow! 

My name’s Red Rags, ready for a r-r-row! 
row! row! ” 

The kangaroo backed up against a tall, 
straight tulip tree and stood on his hind legs. 
Red Rags wasn’t dingo enough to know the 
danger and rushed in, leaping for the kan- 
garoo’s throat. The “ old man ” caught him 
in his little, short fore-arms and held him 
tight and lifting up his terrible hind foot, 
ripped poor Red Rags open as if he had been 
a bag of meal. 


[ 185 ] 


JUST THEN 


When Mr. Packlepoose saw this, he was 
grieved and angry. Without thinking of 
danger, he picked up a rock and threw it 
down hill at the kangaroo. The “ old man ” 
dropped Rags and started toward Mr. 
Packlepoose, who had no weapon of any kind, 
except the short riding-whip he carried. 
There was no use trying to fight a kangaroo 
six feet tall with a riding- whip, so Mr. 
Packlepoose used it, instead, on Velvet’s hide. 
Velvet felt the lash in surprise, for Mr. 
Packlepoose never whipped him, and then 
he saw the kangaroo coming at them, in 
jumps of four or five yards each. Then Vel- 
vet forgot all about not being in a hurry, 
but put his head down and ran like a racer. 
My, how he ran! but the old man kangaroo 
was coming after them faster and faster and 
you may be sure that Mr. Packlepoose 
was more anxious than ever to get back to 
camp. 

The pony had reached the top of the hill 
and now had to go down a long, rough path, 
[ 186 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


full of sharp turns and sudden drops. 
Usually Mr. Packlepoose would have guided 
the pony down this steep slowly and care- 
fully, but now they had to go faster than 
the kangaroo or be caught. Gallop, slip, 
jump, run, went the pony. Leap, leap, leap, 
came the kangaroo. Straight ahead the trail 
seemed to come to a sudden stop and to shoot 
off into the air, but Mr. Packlepoose recog- 
nized the break as the place where the path 
ran down the edge of the cliff. 

The pony went toward the edge so reck- 
lessly that it seemed he must go over the 
cliff. The kangaroo’s tall body shot through 
the air with a great leap. Another leap like 
that and he would land on Mr. Packlepoose, 
and tear him from Velvet’s back. He would 
hug him like a bear with his fore-paws and 
rip him like a tiger with his hind-claws. 

The pony swerved and stumbled. The 
kangaroo leaped again. 

Away over in America a little girl slept 
with a cablegram under her pillow, glad that 

r i 87 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

she knew, or thought she knew, where her 
father was. She did not know that her father 
was on the edge of an Australian precipice 
and that a great kangaroo was leaping 
straight at him. 


[ 188 ] 


XIX 


BUSHBEARD THROWS TWO BOOMERANGS AND 
THE SORCERER MAKES A MEDICINE DANCE 
TO FIND WHY THE DEAD MAN DIED. “THE 
DINORNIS! THE DINORNIS!” 

H ERR SCHNITZ had found no 
Dinornis that day, but he was not 
discouraged. He was on his way 
back to camp resolved to question the natives 
more closely and to force them to guide him 
to the haunts of The Terrible Bird. He rode 
along, with his head down, thinking of how 
he should manage to make the natives under- 
stand him. His companion rode just behind 
him. They carried their guns slung to their 
backs. 

Suddenly, in the path before them, Bush- 
beard appeared. A moment later a dozen 
natives sprang up all around him. Some 
of the blacks carried spears, but each of them 
carried a long curved club, or two. 

[ 189 ] 


JUST THEN 


Though the natives had always been 
friendly there was something about these, 
now, which Herr Schnitz did not like. Al- 
most without thinking, he reached to unsling 
his gun. Instantly Bushbeard raised his 
club and hurled it towards Herr Schnitz. 
It passed harmlessly by and Herr Schnitz 
roared at Bushbeard to know what he meant 
by such conduct. In answer, Bushbeard 
threw another club which also passed harm- 
lessly by. 

Herr Schnitz brought his gun around and 
leveled it. Just then his companion turned 
his head and cried out in alarm, “ Boom- 
erang! ” and fell from his horse. The next 
instant the second club felled Herr Schnitz. 
The two clubs had turned in the air and had 
struck the white men down from behind. 
The natives gave a yell of triumph and 
when Herr Schnitz came to his senses he 
found himself at the camp and his entire 
party captured and bound. Their horses, 
guns and provisions were in the hands of 
[ 190 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Bushbeard and his fellows, for Bushbeard 
had at last found his own tribe and by at- 
tacking the German party in couples, it 
had not been difficult to capture them all. 

Herr Schnitz raised his head painfully and 
looked around and now saw that Mr. Packle- 
poose was missing. “ Either he has not re- 
turned,” thought Herr Schnitz, “ or he has 
escaped, or he is killed. But there is no hope 
for him in any case, for a white man alone, 
in Middle Australia, and without arms or 
provisions cannot hope to get out alive.” 

Now the blacks brought forward the corpse 
of a native who had died from some disease. 
The Sorcerer of the tribe came forward, with 
a skin around his waist, a bunch of feathers 
in his hair and a string of human teeth 
around his neck. He went through a start- 
ling performance which puzzled Herr 
Schnitz and his companions very much, but 
at last, out of the weird noises and the strange 
motions around and over the Dead Man, 
they made out what was happening. The 
[ 191 ] 


JUST THEN 


Sorcerer was asking the Dead Man what had 
caused him to die! 

Presently the Sorcerer gave a strange howl 
and Bushbeard strode over to Herr Schnitz 
and told him that the Dead Man had spoken, 
that his death was caused by the white men 
camping in his valley and that his spirit 
would never be happy until the white men 
were killed and their kidneys eaten. Bush- 
beard seized Herr Schnitz by the hair. 

Just then something happened. 

Somewhere above them they heard the 
hoof -beats of a horse, galloping fast and 
faster. Naturally they all looked up. The 
white men were lying on the ground near the 
base of the cliff. The blacks, all but Bush- 
beard, were gathered around the Sorcerer and 
the Dead Man further out. It was getting 
dark. 

As every eye turned upward, a dark shape 
shot out from the top of the cliff, like a huge 
bird and swooped downward like a bullet. 
“The Dinornis! the Dinornis!” shrieked. 

[ 192 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Herr Schnitz, almost forgetting that he was 
bound and about to die. 

The black hulk fell straight into the group 
of blacks and flattened out three of them. 
The remainder ran shrieking away, and Bush- 
beard with them, believing (and so did the 
white men, too, for a moment) that The 
Terrible Bird which Herr Schnitz so per- 
sistently drew and persistently sought had 
come upon them. 

Of course it was not the Dinornis. It was 
the kangaroo. Velvet had swerved sharply 
just at the critical moment and the kangaroo 
had gone clear over Mr. Packlepoose and the 
pony, both of whom soon came clattering 
down the trail to the camp. 

It was a surprised Mr. Packlepoose who 
found all his friends bound and nobody there 
to bind them, unless it could be four dead 
natives and a flattened out kangaroo. 

“ Ach, my high-respected friend, surely is 
it that you the fortunate and blessed man 
are. It joys me much this even so little re- 
[ 193 ] 


JUST THEN 


ward your great service you to offer for. 
Please, please, here remain you not longer 
us to satisfy, but take you all of the gold 
that you to desire would and to your Ameri- 
can Bumpybambooney back return you,” said 
Herr Schnitz. 

You may be sure Mr. Packlepoose was 
glad to accept the offer but the first thing 
he did was to go back up the mountain to 
find poor Red Rags. He found the dog 
still alive and crawling pitifully, but pluckily, 
along. And not only did he find the dog, 
but he found a baby kangaroo and brought 
both the animals back to camp with him. 
Luckily there was a surgeon in the party 
and Red Rags was sewed up so well that in 
time he grew together as good as new. 

The party now struck eastward to a rail- 
road and reached it without further mishap. 
Mr. Packlepoose left them to continue their 
search for The Terrible Bird and took train 
to Melbourne. To his great sorrow, Red 
Rags’ wounds were still too painful for him 
[ 194 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


to be taken along, so Mr. Packlepoose took 
the baby kangaroo which was already quite 
a pet and which he had named Jackyjump. 

At Melbourne the Pacific liner, The 
Waterbumps , was ready to sail to San Fran- 
cisco and to Mr. Packlepoose it seemed un- 
speakably good even to hold in his hand a 
ticket with the name of a United States city 
printed upon it. 

Mr. Packlepoose now had enough money 
to get a first-class private state-room and he 
was rather inclined to treat himself well, 
after all his hardships, and to travel home- 
ward in style, but he found the ship loaded 
to the guards and the berths all taken but 
one. 

He was glad to get that one, though it was 
in a room with three other passengers, Mr. 
Shawk, Mr. Sleepnaut and Mr. Fishfeeder, 
three very peculiar men and whose peculiari- 
ties had quite an effect upon Mr. Packle- 
poose’s trip and future fortunes. 


[ 195 ] 


XX 


FISHFEEDER TAKES OFF HIS BUTTONS, SLEEP- 
NAUT TAKES OUT HIS EYE, AND JACKYJUMP 
HAS SUCH A GOOD TIME THAT MR. PACKLE- 
POOSE IS DELIVERED TO THE POLICE-BOAT 

M R. SLEEPNAUT was a fleshy 
man with a wide-open face. His 
mouth grinned and he had large 
juicy-looking eyes. His eyes were blue and 
what made them look odd was that one 
was a little bit larger and a little bit shinier 
than the other. Mr. Fishfeeder had a 
squeezed-together face. His eyes were slant- 
ing and seemed to be pushed into his nose. 
There was something odd-looking about his 
clothes. All the buttons on them were cloth- 
covered and of irregular sizes. Mr. Shawk 
was a rather large man with a broad, bald 
head and a big, bald nose. In fact, it looked 
as if his baldness began at the back of his 

[ 196 ] 



SOMETHING HAPPENED 


neck and ran right around to the nozzle of 
his nose. I was going to call it a tip, but 
it was too blunt for a tip; it was more like 
a nozzle. I notice these men and their 
appearance, because Mr. Packlepoose did so, 
as they were to be his room-mates for several 
weeks. 

Mr. Packlepoose had been going by the 
name which Bumpy bambooney had given 
him for so long that he had given that name 
to the purser of the boat, without thinking, 
and he had been introduced to his fellow- 
passengers as Mr. Packlepoose. Anyway, it 
was as good a name as any, so he didn’t care. 

He got along very well with his room- 
mates for a while and as there was little or 
nothing to do, he made up stories to tell to 
Bumpybambooney when he should arrive 
home and sometimes he tried these tales upon 
his companions. They would listen and 
sometimes applaud and then Mr. Packlepoose 
would tell them all about his little girl and 
some of his adventures since he had been 
[ 197 ] 


JUST THEN 


away from her. But for some reason or 
other they never told him about themselves 
in return. Shawk would listen greedily and 
would look at the others as if he expected 
them to say something, but Sleepnaut would 
only say, 44 My eye! aren’t that a tale now? ” 
and Fishfeeder would answer, 44 Bless my 
buttons! ain’t it just?” 

That was about all Mr. Packlepoose ever 
got out of them, but they were all very jolly 
over Jackyjump and made a great pet of 
him. Jacky played with all of them, but 
seemed to know that Mr. Packlepoose was 
his owner and always came back when he was 
tired of the others’ play. 

One evening, when they were about ten 
days out, the sun sank in a bed of black 
clouds and the wind began to blow 
drearily 

44 Whew — whew — whew-ew-ew! 

I’m whipping after you-ou-ou! 
Whatever you are, or who-oo-oo, 

You’ll be sorry before I’m through, 
[ 198 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


For I’ll worry you black and blue, 
Blew — woo — woo ! ” 

Anyway, that’s the way it sounded to Mr. 
Packlepoose and his room-mates. 

They had all gone to bed when suddenly 
Mr. Shawk rose upon his elbow and said, 
“ Say, fellows, just listen how the wind 
blows. If this boat should go down, there’s 
something I should like to tell you.” 

“My eye!” said Sleepnaut. 

“Bless my buttons!” cried Fishfeeder. 

“ All right,” yawned Mr. Packlepoose, 
“ just as soon as we’re under water, you 
start to tell us. It may take our minds off 
being drowned.” 

“ Oh, you may laugh,” said Shawk, “ but 
if I happen to be lost and you are not, be 
sure to save my big overcoat.” 

“ I wouldn’t give a button for your over- 
coat,” said Fishfeeder. 

“ Maybe not, maybe not,” cried Shawk 
softly, “ but let me tell you that sewed up in 
[ 199 ] 


JUST THEN 


its back is the missing Murillo from the 
Vatican at Rome.” 

“What’s a Murillo?” asked Fishfeeder. 

“ What’s a Vatican? ” asked Sleepnaut. 

“Oh, get out!” answered Shawk. “The 
V atican is the Pope’s palace and Murillo was 
a famous artist. One of his paintings is 
called a Murillo and one of them is worth, 
oh, maybe a hundred thousand dollars. I 
cut this one out of its frame and had it 
sewed up in my coat, so I could carry it 
without anyone ever suspecting it. I’ve 
brought it all the way around the world so 
as to get it into the United States from the 
western side. I was afraid they might be 
watching for it, if I tried to get it through 
New York, or any eastern port.” 

“ My eye! ” laughed Sleepnaut. “ Oh my 
eye! Aren’t you the smart one? ” 

“ I’m kind of smart, too,” chuckled Fish- 
feeder. “ Did you ever notice the buttons 
on my clothes? ” 

“ Yes, yes, yes,” said the other three. 

[ 200 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ Well, they’re not buttons at all.” 

“ Your buttons aren’t buttons?” exclaimed 
Mr. Shawk eagerly. 

“No, they’re coins, and the rarest kind of 
coins at that. I’ve been all over the world 
picking them up from various collections. 
I’ve got the pick of the coinage of the world 
from ancient Chaldea down to the Panama 
republic. I’ve even got the only U. S. 
dollar ever coined in 1773.” 

“ Why, there wasn’t any United States 
in 1773,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“I know it,” chuckled Fishfeeder; “that’s 
what makes it so valuable.” 

“ I’ve heard of it,” whispered Shawk. 
“There’s a big, big reward offered for it; 
fifty thousand dollars, I’ve heard. I don’t 
believe you have it.” 

“ It’s the top button of my smoking 
jacket,” boasted Fishfeeder. “Here! I’ll 
show it to you.” He reached for the 
jacket and ripped off the button, skinned off 
the cloth and showed the rare coin to each 
[ 201 ] 


JUST THEN 


of them. Then he put it under his pillow, 
saying, “ Guess I’m about the cleverest of 
you, after all.” 

“ You certainly are,” said Shawk. 

44 My eye! ” laughed Sleepnaut. 44 Oh, my 
eye! Is he just?” 

He laughed long but quietly, then sud- 
denly sat up in bed, put his hand up to his 
right eye and popped it out. It was a false 
eye, an enormous false eye, but that wasn’t 
the strangest part of it. The glass was a 
mere shell to cover a jewel of marvelous 
purity and beauty. 44 The eye of the god 
from the Great Temple in India,” whispered 
Sleepnaut. 44 It cost the lives of sixteen men 
to get it and I am the only one of the gang 
left. It is worth a king’s ransom, or rather 
a god’s ransom. Once I am safe in America 
with it, I can sell it to a Pittsburg million- 
aire for enough to keep me for life.” 

Mr. Packlepoose had listened to all this 
in amazement. 44 Are you fellows trying to 
fill me up with stories?” he asked. There 
[ 202 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


was a sudden dropping of jaws and he saw 
that they were telling him the truth. “ Why, 
you’re nothing but a bunch of thieves!” he 
cried. “Why have you told me this? I 
don’t know whether I ought to keep your 
secrets or tell the captain to have you all 
arrested as soon as we land.” 

“ Look a-here, pal,” said Fishfeeder, with 
an ugly look on his narrow face, “ don’t you 
go to playin’ nasty, or we’ll dump you into 
the drink.” 

“ Yes,” said Sleepnaut hotly. “ There’s 
somethin’ mighty queer about you, too, you 
know, from the stories you’ve told us.” 

“What do you mean?” demanded Mr. 
Packlepoose indignantly. 

“ Oh, come,” said Shawk soothingly. 
“ Let’s not quarrel. Maybe you’ve tried to 
dodge the police in your time. Have a little 
sympathy.” 

Mr. Packlepoose reddened and the others 
laughed. “Ha, ha!” jeered Fishfeeder, 

“ you landed him that time, Shawk. Guess 
[ 203 ] 


JUST THEN 

he just wanted to make us divvy with his 
threats.” 

“ Oh, go to sleep,” growled Mr. Packle- 
poose. “ I’m disgusted with you.” 

He lay awake for a long time reflecting 
what he ought to do. The storm continued 
harder than ever and when he awoke the next 
morning, two of his room-mates were sick, 
oh, exceedingly sick. Sleepnaut’s eye lay 
in a glass where he had popped it the night 
before and Fishfeeder’s precious American 
dollar of 1773 had slipped from under his 
pillow. Both were too sick to pay any at- 
tention to their treasures. 

Shawk was already up and gone. Mr. 
Packlepoose dressed and followed him on 
deck. “ Good-morning! ” cried Shawk. cheer- 
fully. 

“ I just wanted to tell you,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, “that I have made up my mind 
I must inform the captain about your stolen 
picture.” 

Shawk smiled more than ever. His smile 
[204] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


seemed to run up his wide, white nose and 
clear around his bald head. “ Come along,” 
he said. “ I’ll go with you.” 

Together they sought the captain and 
Shawk said, “ Captain, here’s my room-mate 
who needs to be introduced to me.” 

“ Mr. Packlepoose,” said the captain, “ this 
is Inspector Shawk of the U. S. government 
service. He is especially detailed on this 
ship to detect smugglers.” 

“ But — but,” stammered Mr. Packlepoose, 
“ the picture ” 

“Don’t you see?” laughed Shawk. “I 
knew those fellows were crooks and I 
thought you might be one, too, because 
you were with them. I told my stealing 
story first, so as to get you others to 
brag about your thefts. I soon saw that 
you were straight, especially when you 
blushed so about having had a brush with 
the police.” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “I did run 
away from a policeman once, but it was 
[ 205 ] 


JUST THEN 


because I had done nothing and didn’t want 
to be bothered.” 

“ Well,” said Shawk, “you can tell our 
room-mates that you didn’t peach on them 
and you needn’t tell them who I am.” 

“ I wish I never had to see them again,” 
said Mr. Packlepoose, “ but I suppose I’ll 
have to sleep in that state-room for the rest 
of the voyage.” 

The wind had died down and the sea 
was now rapidly getting smoother. Mr. 
Packlepoose went to the cabin to get Jacky- 
jump, and found the two thieves just stir- 
ring themselves. He took Jackyjump out on 
deck and gave him his daily play-spell and 
his much-loved sugar. Jackyjump thrust 
his paws into Mr. Packlepoose’s pockets and 
after much search found the lumps. He 
nibbled some, thrust some into his pouch and 
then took some out and put them into his 
master’s pockets. It was very amusing and 
Mr. Packlepoose played with his pet a long 
time. He was interrupted by Shawk who 
[ 206 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


beckoned him toward their state-room. In- 
side the room, he found Fishfeeder and Sleep- 
naut greatly excited. “You — you — you!” 
they stuttered, as soon as he appeared, shak- 
ing their fingers in his face. 

“What’s the matter with you?” asked 
Mr. Packlepoose coldly. “ I haven’t told 
upon you. Not yet.” 

“Told upon us! huh! that’s good, you 
thief,” snarled Fishfeeder. “ You stole my 
dollar of 1773.” 

“ And you stole my eye,” cried Sleepnaut. 

“ You fellows are crazy,” answered Mr. 
Packlepoose. “ You think all the world are 
thieves because you are.” 

“ We’ll search you then,” screamed the 
two. 

“ Take your hands off me,” demanded 
Mr. Packlepoose. Then he saw Shawk look- 
ing at him with a strange, suspicious expres- 
sion. “ You don’t mean to say you suspect 
me, Shawk?” he inquired. “Well, I’ll let 
you search me, but not those fellows.” 

[ 207] 


JUST THEN 


“ I hate to do it,” said Shawk, “ but if 
you don’t mind, it may satisfy them.” He 
thrust his hands quickly into Mr. Packle- 
poose’s pockets one after another, into his 
.trousers pockets, his coat pockets, his out- 
side vest pockets and then into his inner vest 
pocket. A startled look swept over his face. 
Then he drew out the eye and the button to- 
gether. 

Mr. Packlepoose was the most surprised 
man on the Pacific Ocean. Sleepnaut and 
Fishfeeder would have pounced upon their 
treasures with howls of delight, but Shawk 
waved them back. “ Well,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose to Shawk, “ unless you put them 
there, I have no idea how you took them 
out.” 

“ That story won’t help you very far,” 
said Shawk. “ As it happens, I haven’t been 
near the state-room since I left it this morn- 
ing, until I came back here with you.” 

Mr. Packlepoose was now in the hardest 
situation he had been in since leaving Bumpy- 
[ 208 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


bambooney. The thieves hated him, sup- 
posing him to be a meaner thief than they. 
Shawk and the captain were of the same 
opinion and Mr. Packlepoose knew, though 
Sleepnaut and Fishfeeder did not, that he 
and the two thieves would be put in jail 
as soon as the ship reached San Francisco. 

He was so grieved and hurt by the sus- 
picions and the seeming proof against him 
that he avoided the other passengers for the 
rest of the voyage and played with Jacky- 
jump most of the time. As soon as the 
Waterbumps got in touch with wireless, 
Shawk asked for police to meet the ship 
upon docking and to take in charge three 
criminals. 

And now they steamed through the Golden 
Gate and into San Francisco Bay. Mr, 
Packlepoose sat playing with Jackyjump 
(the only friend he had on board) with gloom 
in his heart. He had thought that the sight 
of America would make him sing for joy 
and that all his troubles would be ended and 
[ 209 ] 


JUST THEN 

here he was coming to his native land and 
a jail. 

Jackyjump felt in his pocket for sugar, 
but found none. Mr. Packlepoose reached 
in to see if there were a piece left and sud- 
denly dropped the kangaroo and ran to his 
state-room. The detective was packing up 
and was just leaving it. “Shawk!” cried 
Mr. Packlepoose, “ I’ve found the fellow 
who put those things in my pocket.” 

“ Oh, huh,” said Shawk, with no show of 
interest. “Rather late about it, aren’t you? 
Who?” 

“Jackyjump! He must have picked them 
up, put them into his pouch and slipped them 
into my pocket when he was feeling for 
sugar. I never would have thought of it, 
if he hadn’t just this minute put a pen- 
knife from his pouch into my pocket.” 

“ Well,” said Shawk, “ somehow you never 
seemed to me like a crook and if your yarn 
is true, it will be easy to get Jackyjump to 
prove it in court. Of course I’ll have to 
[ 210 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


turn you over to the police now, because I’ve 
wirelessed all about you and the police-boat 
will be alongside in a few minutes. By 
George! that’s her whistle now. I’ve got 
those other fellows handcuffed. I’ll risk you 
without the bracelets if you’ll behave.” 

So poor Mr. Packlepoose prepared to go 
onto the police-boat. However, he felt a 
great deal better. He was sure he could 
prove that Jackyjump was the innocent 
cause of his trouble and that he would be 
released the next morning. Then, hey for 
home and Bumpybambooney ! 

Yes, he felt sure, but he didn’t know who 
was on the police-boat to welcome him to 
America. 


[ 211 ] 


XXI 


WHO IS O’CONNELL O’SHEA? BUMPED OUT OF 
BED AND SHAKEN OUT OF JAIL. A JEWELED 
HAND STICKS OUT OF THE RUINS AND THE 
FINGERS MOVE. “SHOOT HIM!” YELLS THE 
BLUE ACORN 

S INCE Mr. Packlepoose had left 
America there had been a good 
many changes. Most of them need 
not bother us but one of them does, be- 
cause it bothered Mr. Packlepoose. In the 
city government of New York there had 
been what is called a “ shake-up.” Now 
you wouldn’t think a shake-up in New 
York would make Mr. Packlepoose tremble 
in San Francisco, but it did. You see the 
Mayor of New York had a quarrel with 
the Chief of Police. The Mayor found that 
some of the police were worse than the men 
they arrested and men who should have been 

[ 212 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


arrested were let go because they paid 
money to the police. 

So quite a number of the police were let 
go and some others quit of their own accord. 
Among those who quit was a big fellow 
named O’Connell O’Shea. Of course all these 
men had to look for other employment. 
Some of them became janitors, drivers, bar- 
keepers, but O’Connell O’Shea still wanted 
to be a policeman and as he couldn’t work at 
it inr New York, he looked for a place some- 
where else and succeeded in getting an 
appointment to the police force in San Fran- 
cisco. He was made a sergeant and was in 
charge of the squad on the police-boat which 
met the Waterbumps. 

“ I’ve got two world-beaters for you,” said 
Shawk. “ They’re a couple of the smartest 
crooks on earth and they’d steal the hinges 
off the Golden Gate. This other chap is 
just a suspect and not dangerous. He’s 
such a decent chap that if I hadn’t taken 
stolen stuff out of his pockets myself, I 
[ 213 ] 


JUST THEN 


would swear he’s innocent. And even as it 
is, he’s got a story that will clear him, I 
think.” 

O’Connell O’Shea looked at the two 
44 world-beaters ” with respect and then at 
Mr. Packlepoose indifferently. Then his face 
changed and he uttered a whoop of joy. 
44 Him not dangerous! ” he yelled. 44 Ho, ho! 
he, he! Why, that’s Packlepoose. He’s the 
slickest ould scamp this side of purgatory. 
Glory be to the day I’ve got my claws on 
him ag’in.” 

Poor Mr. Packlepoose was in hard luck 
again, for O’Connell O’Shea was the Blue 
Acorn ! 

4 Well, well,” said Shawk, 44 he certainly 
is a slick one, for he had me fooled com- 
pletely. Don’t let him get away.” 

44 No get-away for him at all, at all, anny 
moor,” said O’Shea. 44 It’s him as’ll board 
at the state’s own hotel for manny the year. 
I know enough to send him up for life. 
Come along, you ! 33 

[ 214 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


That night Mr. Packlepoose slept in jail, 
or rather he didn’t sleep. He went to bed, 
but his troubles were too many. Be- 
tween Shawk and O’Shea he was sure things 
would go hard with him. At the very 

least he would be held for trial and 
as there was no one to bail him out, 

he might be held in jail awaiting trial 

for months. It was a black outlook 
and Mr. Packlepoose didn’t know what 
to do. 

The Blue Acorn felt very, very good be- 
cause he had Mr. Packlepoose in jail. He 
thought that it would give him back his 

place on the New York force and his soul 
longed for New York. Yet he could not 
forget Mr. Packlepoose’s strange escapes 
from him before and though Mr. Packlepoose 
was securely locked in a cell he wanted to 
keep his eye on him. Perhaps he wanted 
to gloat over him a little, too. So he came 
to the grating of the cell at about day-break 
the next morning. “ Yah, yous Packlepoose,” 
[ 215 ] 


JUST THEN 


he cried. “ Got yez now where you can’t 
make any get-away. Hey? ” 

Just then something happened. 

There was a rumbling roar and the earth 
surged like the sea. Mr. Packlepoose was 
half dozing and thought he was still on the 
Waterbumps. Then he was hurled out of 
bed. The building rocked and toppled. The 
Blue Acorn gave a yelling shriek of terror 
and staggered away. The cell split open. 
Mr. Packlepoose arose and was thrown flat 
upon his face out into the corridor. He 
crawled away in his night-clothes as best 
he could. After a little he was on his feet 
again. Everybody had rushed out of doors. 
In a bed-room back of the office lay a 
dead policeman with the wall fallen upon 
him. 

“ He’ll not need his clothes any more,” 
thought Mr. Packlepoose and put on the 
blue trousers and heavy shoes, from where 
they had been placed near the bed. Then 
came another tremble and without waiting 
[ 216 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

to clothe himself further, he rushed into the 
street. 

Thousands of people were rushing along, 
many of them half naked. Flames burst out 
of many buildings. An earthquake had 
helped Mr. Packlepoose out of jail. The 
city was on fire. 

For the rest of that day, Mr. Packlepoose 
almost forget Mrs. Hockamaboury and 
Bumpybambooney. There was so much to 
be done for other people. At first there 
were men and women entangled in fallen 
ruins. There was fire to fight. There were 
injured people to be cared for. 

Mr. Packlepoose was thankful to have 
escaped alive and unhurt and he worked 
from day-break until afternoon without food 
or water, only anxious to help someone who 
needed help. It was a solemn and a terrible 
time. 

The firemen were blowing up the build- 
ings to save them from catching fire. The 
soldiers had taken charge of the city, for 
[ 217 ] 


JUST THEN 


though some men had been like Mr. Packle- 
poose and had tried to help, some others had 
thought only of themselves and had tried 
to rob even the dead people. The soldiers 
had orders to shoot anyone caught robbing 
the dead. 

It was toward the middle of the afternoon 
and Mr. Packlepoose was looking for some- 
thing to eat and drink. As he passed a fallen 
building, he saw a man’s hand sticking out of 
a pile of rubbish. On the little finger was 
a beautiful pigeon’s-blood ruby, set round 
with diamonds, but it was not that which 
attracted Mr. Packlepoose’s notice. There 
was something more valuable than rubies and 
diamonds there, for, as he looked, he saw 
the hand open and shut. Without pausing 
to think, Mr. Packlepoose rushed in and 
stooped to remove the timbers and trash 
from the buried body. 

“Shoot that t’ief!” called a voice. 

Mr. Packlepoose looked sideways and there 
was O’Shea pointing with his club straight 
[ 218 ] 





As he looked, he saw the hand open and shut. 














SOMETHING HAPPENED 


at him. A soldier turned sharply. He saw 
Mr. Packlepoose stooping near a jeweled 
hand. He saw the pointing policeman. In- 
stantly his rifle went to his shoulder. He 
was only a few feet away and he could not 
miss. More than one man that day had 
fallen from the too ready action of the 
soldiers who had been inclined to shoot first 
and to ask questions afterwards. Without a 
doubt Mr. Packlepoose would have been 
killed, but 

Just then something happened. 

The thing which happened was the second 
earthquake shock. The ground split. The 
soldier fired in the air and fell backward, 
half stunned. The Blue Acorn was thrown 
violently to the ground. 

Curiously enough the shock loosened and 
lifted the timbers which held the man with 
the ring. Mr. Packlepoose seized him and 
brushed the dust and dirt off his face and 
lifted his arms. The breath came back to 
the man’s body. He opened his eyes and 
[ 219 ] 


JUST THEN 


realized that Mr. Packlepoose had saved him 
from a horrible death. He gasped a word 
or two, then took off the rich ring and 
pressed it on to Mr. Packlepoose’s finger. 
Mr. Packlepoose didn’t want the ring, but 
all the jewels of the Indies seemed worthless 
at such a time, so he didn’t think much 
about it. At that moment, The Blue Acorn 
sat up and rubbed his head. 

The Blue Acorn sat up and rubbed his 
head and stared at the sight of the rescued 
man giving the ring in gratitude. He stared 
at the soldier lying there like one dead. 
A look of superstitious horror struck his 
face. He crawled over to Mr. Packlepoose 
and knelt before him and said, “For the 
love of Mary in Hivin, let be, let be. Never 
agin will I lay a finger on yez, or say a 
word against yez. I don’t know what yez 
are, but the worrld busts itself every time 
anny wan would do yez hurt. Plaze, plaze, 
won’t yez lave me and this poor town in 
peace? ” 


[ 220 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ I’ll be glad enough to leave it,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose. “ You show me how, that’s 
all.” 

The Blue Acorn took off his belt, his coat 
and his helmet. “ Put on those and make 
for the ferry. If anny sojer says a word to 
yez, show yer badge and this pass. Don’t 
let annyone stop yez or this half of Ameriky 
will fall into the center of the earth. Don’t 
jump into the bay, or the ocean’ll dry up. 
Don’t fly up in the air, or the sky’ll fall 
down. Wurra, wurra, wurra, good-by, 
good-by! ” 


[ 221 ] 


XXII 


PACKLEPOOSE THE POLICEMAN MEETS AN OLD 
FRIEND. FISHFEEDER FINDS IT DIFFICULT 
TO WALK ON THE WATER AND THE DELIVERY 
WAGON SAILS FOR SEATTLE 

M R. PACKLEPOOSE made his 
way to the ferry, but the second 
shock had sent hordes of people the 
same way. It was impossible even with his 
uniform and his badge to get near it. Per- 
haps he could have forced his way through, 
but Mr. Packlepoose considered that all 
these people had as much right to get away 
as he had and he didn’t think it fair to take 
a policeman’s advantage and crowd through, 
especially as he was only a make-believe 
policeman. 

A man in the crowd near him peered up 
into his face and clutched his arm. Mr. 
Packlepoose looked down and saw the narrow 
face of Fishfeeder. 

[ 222 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ Say,” whispered Fishfeeder, “ can you 
get past the guards with those blue clo’es?” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Packlepoose shortly, for 
he did not like Fishfeeder. 

“ Then come with me,” whispered Fish- 
feeder. 

As I said Mr. Packlepoose did not like 
Fishfeeder, but when you do not know at 
what moment the earth may open and swal- 
low you up, likes and dislikes seem very 
small, and rich men and beggars, good men 
and crooks, all seem pretty much alike. So, 
as Mr. Packlepoose was blocked in one way, 
there seemed to be no good reason why he 
should not go some other way, even with 
such a man as Fishfeeder. It was a relief 
to know some fellow-man at such a time, 
even if he were a bad man. 

Fishfeeder wormed his way along the out- 
side fringe of the crowd and Mr. Packle- 
poose followed. Soon they had left the 
crowd and were making their way along the 
water-front. Everywhere were soldiers pac- 
[ 223 ] 


JUST THEN 


ing up and down. Presently Fishfeeder 
stopped. “See that little boat-house?” he 
whispered, without pointing, but peering at 
it from under his lowered brows. 

Mr. Packlepoose nodded. 

“ See that schooner out in the bay? ” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ I got a row-boat in that boat-house and 
that schooner will take us to Seattle.” 

“ Good,” said Mr. Packlepoose. “ Any- 
thing to get away from this terrible place. 
Come along.” 

“ Hold on,” whispered Fishfeeder. “ The 
soldiers won’t let us touch a thing. Least- 
ways they won’t let me. If you can get us 
into that boat, with those blue clo’es of 
yours (wherever you stole ’em), I’ll get you 
to Seattle. If you don’t, I’ll put the sojers 
on to you as a fake cop and you won’t last 
more’n a minute.” 

“ Shut up with your threats,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, “ and come along.” He put his 
hand on Fishfeeder’s shoulder, as if he had 
[ 224 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


him under arrest and marched toward the 
boat-house. 

“ Halt! ” A soldier barred the way. 

Mr. Packlepoose showed the badge on his 
coat and reached into his pocket for the card 
the Blue Acorn had given him and which 
read: — 


Pass Bearer, 

Mr. O’Connell O’Shea, 
in the discharge of his duties as 
Special Officer, 

By order of 

Frederick Funston, 
Brig. Gen. U. S. A. 

The soldier glanced at the card and stepped 
aside. 

Sure enough, inside the little house under 
the pier was a boat and the two men took 
hold and slid it into the water. 4 4 Why, it’s 
full of old rags and stuff,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose. ‘‘Let’s throw them out.” 

Fishfeeder stopped him with a motion and 
a look of horror. “ I’m a dead man if you 
[ 225 ] 


JUST THEN 


do,” he snarled under his breath, glancing 
toward the soldier, “ and if I am, I don’t 
go without taking somebody with me, even if 
it’s only a fake policeman.” 

Mr. Packlepoose was trapped. He said 
nothing but helped launch the boat. Soon 
they were far out in the bay, with Fish- 
feeder rowing. “ Say,” said he, after a long 
silence, “ you got a gun in those blue 
clo’es? ” 

“ No,” answered Mr. Packlepoose, un- 
thinkingly. “ Why ? ” 

“ Just wanted to borrow it to shoot a sea- 
gull. Got a knife?” 

“ No.” 

“ Sorry. I wanted to lance a boil on the 
back of my neck,” said Fishfeeder. “ Nice 
lookin’ ring you’re wearing. Where’d you 
keep it when you were on the W aterbumps? ” 

Mr. Packlepoose had quite forgotten the 
ring, but he turned it on his finger and said, 
“ A man gave it to me to-day for pulling him 
out of the ruins.” 


[ 226 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Fishfeeder laughed. “ I got a lot of 
things they gave me,” he sneered. He let 
go of an oar an instant and lifted the edge 
of the canvas in the bottom of the boat and 
Mr. Packlepoose got a glimpse of a strange 
jumble of pocket-books, clothing, jewelry 
and valuable articles. Right in the middle 
was a human finger with a ring upon it. 
Alongside it lay a knife with a dull red 
upon its blade. 

“You miserable wretch!” gasped Mr. 
Packlepoose. 

Fishfeeder stooped and grabbed the knife. 
“ Look here,” he said, “ I guess you better 
get out and walk. Aboard the Waterbumps 
you was too good for us, though we made 
you own up you was dodgin’ the coppers. 
Now you’re broke out of jail and wearin’ 
a thousand dollar ring and a policeman’s 
suit and yet you’re gettin’ too good again. 
I guess you’d better walk.” He clutched the 
knife threateningly. 

Mr. Packlepoose looked at him steadily 
[ 227 ] 


JUST THEN 


and said nothing. This seemed to make Fish- 
feeder all the uglier. “Gimme that ring!” 
he yelled, “ and then step off my boat. 
Gimme that ring! It’s little enough to return 
for what you stole from me in our state- 
room. You’re a disgrace to our trade, you 
are.” 

He arose to his feet with the knife in his 
hand to throw himself at Mr. Packlepoose, 
who hadn’t a weapon of any sort. Even the 
Blue Acorn’s club wasn’t in his belt. It 
looked as if Fishfeeder had used him and 
was now going to kill him. 

Just then something happened. 

Often, after earthquakes, you know, the 
sea is so disturbed that tidal waves follow. 
One of these waves — a ridge of water like a 
small* mountain range — struck the boat and 
stood it straight up in the air. Fishfeeder, 
who was standing with his back to the wave, 
was thrown the entire length of the boat and 
into the sea, the wave picking him up and 
carrying him along as if he had been a 
[ 228 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


straw. Mr. Packlepoose, who had seen the 
wave coming, threw himself into the bottom 
of the boat and clung to a seat for dear 
life. 

Luckily the little craft was a good one 
and her bow was toward the wave. She 
quivered in the air and then plunged under 
the water, came right side up and was 
whirled like a top. Mr. Packlepoose was 
half senseless from the shock. Of course he 
was soaked through. His helmet was gone. 
One oar was left. 

He threw off his heavy coat, grasped 
the oar and used it like the paddle of a 
canoe. 

“ Boat ahoy! ” came a call and Mr. Packle- 
poose found himself near the anchored 
schooner. The back-wash of the great wave 
had brought them together. 

“ Stand by to catch a line! ” 

Mr. Packlepoose caught the rope and the 
boat was brought alongside. Soon he and 
it were on the deck of the schooner. Glanc- 
[ 229 ] 


JUST THEN 


ing around him, Mr. Packlepoose saw the 
worst looking crowd of men it had ever been 
his misfortune to look at. The beggars at 
Naples, the street mob of Constantinople, 
the fanatics of Mecca, even the dog-eating 
Igorrotes had looked better to him than 
these. 

“My eye!” said a voice. “You’re the 
last boat in. What made you so late?” 

Looking at the speaker, Mr. Packlepoose 
saw Sleepnaut, Sleepnaut with only one eye. 
“Why, it’s Packlepoose!” exclaimed Sleep- 
naut, “ dear old Sunday School Sister Packle- 
poose, who stole my eye.” 

“ If you’re the captain of this craft,” said 
Mr. Packlepoose simply, “ I might as well 
jump overboard at once.” 

“Not a bit of it, pal, not a bit. I’m 
a square man. I stole the god’s eye and 
did a good job. You stole my eye, which 
is fair enough. It’s all in the game. 
Have you got it with you, so I can steal it 
back?” 


[ 230 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ I never took it,” said Mr. Packlepoose, 
“ and you know it. Jackyjump took it and 
hid it in his pouch. Then he put it in my 
pocket and then Shawk got it.” 

“ My eye! but you’re a clever one,” grinned 
Sleepnaut. “ I call that a clever yarn and 
you’re the same joker as ever.” 

“ I suppose you’re captain here? ” said 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ I’m better than captain,” grinned Sleep- 
naut. 4 4 I’m the manager of the Quaker and 
Shaker Collection Company. The earth does 
the quaking and shaking. We do the col- 
lecting. We collect purses and other trifles. 
This ship is merely our Delivery Wagon. 
You seem to be one of our messenger boys 
and a very good one, for you have brought 
this collection through, which I had almost 
given up.” Sleepnaut waved his hand toward 
the boat, in which, strange to say, most of 
the loot had stuck. 

Mr. Packlepoose felt as if his heart had 
fallen into his stomach. 44 Is it possible,” he 
[ 231 ] 


JUST THEN 


thought, “ that I have become one of this 
horrible nest of thieves in spite of myself?” 

Sleepnaut was pawing over the loot in the 
small boat and he looked up with an expres- 
sion of pride and pleasure. “ I congratulate 
you,” he said. “ You are our most success- 
ful collector. Our company is very generous 
and shares equally with its agents. Your 
fifty per c^nt. commission will make your 
fortune.” 

The members of the Quaker and Shaker 
Company, or, in other words, the crew of 
the ship, were looking at Mr. Packlepoose 
with envy. He had brought in the most loot 
and they considered him their most successful 
thief. 

“ I didn’t collect them,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

“My eye!” said Sleepnaut. “That’s just 
the way you talked and acted on the Water- 
bumps . It’s a very good joke, you know, 
but it’s out of place when we’re talking busi- 
ness.” 


[232 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ Have it your own way,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, “ but I shan’t take any share 
of this plunder — any ‘ commissions,’ as you 
call it.” 

“ Ah, hah! a bit of conscience, eh? Well, 
that’s decent of you. You stole my eye 
and you give me your commissions. A square 
deal. But I wish I had my eye.” 

During this conversation the ship had 
weighed anchor, the sails had been hoisted 
and the schooner had begun her slow journey 
northward. “ When we reach Seattle,” said 
Sleepnaut, “ we’ll all be rich. I’ll give you 
back your commissions and a bit over, if 
you’ll only give me my eye.” 

So there was Mr. Packlepoose on the ocean 
again and sailing away with a gang of 
thieves and cut-throats and considered by 
them to be one of their worst, which they 
would call their best. 

Well might Bumpybambooney pray for 
her papa to return. Well might she be sorry 
that she had ever told him to go away. 

[ 233 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


And somewhere among the dust-heaps and 
burning ruins of San Francisco, a baby 
kangaroo hopped wistfully about. He, too, 
was sorry that Mr. Packlepoose had gone 
away. 


[ 234 ] 


XXIII 


THE RAT POINTS THE WAY TO THE UGLY MUG. 
SINGLE EYE AND TRIPLE EYE HAVE A FIGHT. 
MR. PACKLEPOOSE IS PUT TO BED IN THE 
ROOM-WITHOUT-A-FLOOR 

Y OU will remember that Mr. Packle- 
poose had started on many strange 
journeys since he had left Bumpy- 
bambooney and none had seemed to be surer 
of ending badly than this one. It seemed 
as if something terrible were bound to hap- 
pen on an old sea-soaked schooner, manned 
by a crew of wicked men who spent most of 
their time in drinking and fighting and 
gambling, instead of attending to the sail- 
ing of the ship. 

But as I told you in the beginning, there 
are many things which happen and just as 
many more which don’t happen, and very 
often the things you think are going to 
[ 235 ] 


JUST THEN 


happen are the ones which don’t happen. 
Exactly so. And the ones which hap- 
pen are the ones you didn’t expect would 
happen. 

And so, in this case, nothing happened! 

The schooner made her slow way up the 
coast, passing the mountain islands one by 
one and sailing through sunshiny seas. She 
arrived off Seattle without a mishap of any 
kind, and Sleepnaut called the Quakers and 
Shakers (as he dubbed them) together in 
the cabin. 

“ Now, my lads,” said he, “ we’ll divvy up 
and leave this old hulk to herself unless some- 
body wants her as his share of the swag. 
Is there anyone who’ll take a lovely old 
schooner warranted almost as old as a Cre- 
mona violin and just about as seaworthy? 
No? Well, then, we’ll sail into Puget Sound, 
drop anchor, take to the boats and get to 
shore during the night and leave the old hulk 
to anyone who finds her. We’ve got no 
papers and it won’t do for any of us to claim 
[ 236 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


her. Quarters will be at The Ugly Mug, 
you all know where.” 

“ Sure! ” answered the chorus. 

Sleepnaut proceeded to divide the loot into 
piles and each wretch pounced eagerly upon 
his spoil. 

“ Yours,” he said to Mr. Packlepoose, 
pointing to a heap somewhat larger than most. 
Mr. Packlepoose turned his back and walked 
away. 

“ You won’t take it? ” asked Sleepnaut. 

“You know I won’t,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

“ My eye, but ain’t he the generous gent! ” 
smiled Sleepnaut. “ Then it’s mine.” 

“ Divvy, divvy ! ” yelled the crowd. 

“ No, you don’t,” said Sleepnaut, “ but I 
tell you what I’ll do. If this high-minded 
gent will give me back my eye which he stole, 
I’ll give you fellows all his pile.” 

“ Give it back,” snarled most of the gang. 

“Make him give it back! ” said the rest. 

Then up arose one fellow whose forehead 
[ 237 ] 


JUST THEN 


above and whose chin below sloped back 
from his thin nose and protruding teeth. He 
was called The Rat and he looked it. “Tell 
you what,” he squeaked, “ here’s a square 
sporting proposition. One of these gents 
has the other’s eye. T’other one has a pile 
of extry fine ’Frisco souvenirs. Let ’em 
fight to a finish for ’em, winner to take all.” 

“Bully!” yelled the gang and began to 
form a ring. 

“ Not here,” said The Rat. “ Time we 
was gettin’ ashore, before we’re nabbed. At 
the Ugly Mug in two hours.” 

“ I haven’t his eye and I shan’t fight and 
shan’t be there,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Oh, yes, you will,” said The Rat. “ I’m 
your trainer. Half of us’ll go in one boat 
and half in the other. If you won’t fight old 
Left Lamp here, you’ll have to fight me 
and all the rest of the crew, ’cause we’re going 
to see that you get to the Ugly Mug in 
time.” 

And so it was. The anchor rattled to the 
[ 238 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

bottom, without the crew as much as furling 
the sails. The boats were lowered and every 
thief (first stowing away his booty about his 
person) jumped into a boat. A half dozen 
of them seized Mr. Packlepoose and took 
him along. All Mr. Packlepoose had from 
the voyage was an officer s plain suit of clothes 
he had found in a state-room and which he 
took from dire necessity, because it was plain 
it would never find its owner again. 

The Ugly Mug proved to be a rickety 
saloon built upon a pier and directly over 
the Sound. Before the door swung a sign 
bearing the picture of a yellow mug and on 
the mug was the portrait of the proprietor, 
fat-faced, small-eyed and with black mus- 
taches curling up to his eyebrows. It was a 
forbidding looking place, and inside it was 
worse. 

There were bright lights and music from 
a tin-pan piano. The floor was sprinkled 
with saw-dust and the bar took up the entire 
side of the long room and shone with glass- 
[ 239 ] 


JUST THEN 


ware and mirrors. Through a haze of blue 
tobacco smoke, Mr. Packlepoose saw a half- 
drunken mob of sailors salt from the seas, 
miners fresh from the Klondike, lumber- 
jacks wild from the woods and the scum 
of the criminals from the city. A howl of 
delight greeted The Rat as he crept to 
the bar and squeaked, “ Drinks for every- 
body.” 

The fiddler and pianist banged out a tune 
and the fiddler sang in a husky voice: — 

“ Take a bite o’ rum 
And some pepsin gum 
And a swaller er two o’ brandy, 

A whiskey skin 

And a rickey of gin 

And a stick o’ pep’mint candy.” 

“ Now, gents,” said The Rat, “ I invites 
your attention to a finish fight between Single 
Eye and Triple Eye for the championship of 
the Ugly Mug. As you see, Single Eye has 
only one eye, ’cause Triple Eye has got his 
other eye. That’s why they’re fightin’.” 

[ 240 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

Gloves were thrust upon Mr. Packlepoose’s 
hands and he was pushed into the middle of 
the floor, facing Sleepnaut, while the fiddlei: 
sang: — 

“ Put up your mitts; 

Don’t throw no fits, 

’Cause there ain’t no cop to hear you. 
Give the other chap a slug 
In his ugly mug 

And the Ugly Mug will cheer you.” 

Mr. Packlepoose did not want to fight, but 
he believed that if you must fight, you should 
fight hard. He had always been so mild and 
gentle that Sleepnaut supposed he would box 
and feint and fiddle like a gentleman in a 
gymnasium. Instead, no sooner did they face 
each other than Mr. Packlepoose sprang at 
Sleepnaut fiercely, slammed him in his one 
eye with a straight right-hand blow and 
brought his left against the body just above 
the belt. Sleepnaut doubled up like a knife 
and went to the floor. Instantly the fiddler 
sang : — 


[ 241 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ One, two, three, four! 

Better get up from the sawdust floor. 

Five, six, seven, eight! 

Two seconds more and you’ll be too late. 

Now it’s nine and now it’s ten; 

Now it’s too late to get up again.” 

A roaring cheer went up for Mr. Packle- 
poose, but The Rat sprang forward with a 
pair of gloves already on his hands. “ Fight 
me!” he yelled and jumped at Mr. Packle- 
poose. They boxed for a moment and then 
The Rat clinched and brought his glove 
down on Mr. Packlepoose’s head. Mr. 
Packlepoose dropped like a stone, or like 
the lump of lead which The Rat’s glove 
concealed. 

“ Foul ! ” “ Fine ! ” “ He’s out ! ” “ He’s 
dead ! ” yelled the crowd and gathered around 
the fallen Mr. Packlepoose. 

The proprietor, a fat-faced man with a 
long curled up mustache, pushed his way 
through the crowd and anyone could see 
why he bore the same name as his place. 
“ He’s all right,” called the Ugly Mug, with- 
[ 242 ] 







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SOMETHING HAPPENED 


out even looking at the fallen man. “ Noth- 
ing wrong ever happens in my house. The 
Rat has put him to sleep, so we’ll put him 
to bed. That’s all.” 

The Ugly Mug lifted Mr. Packlepoose 
by the shoulders and The Rat seized his feet. 
Together they dragged him out of the room 
and down a long, dark hall. “ Open Number 
Thirteen,” shouted the Ugly Mug. 

There was the rattle of a key in the door 
and the slip of a heavy bolt. Some servant 
had opened the door of Number Thirteen 
and stood behind it in the hall, the door 
swinging outward. 

“Stand back!” said the Ugly Mug to 
The Rat. He lifted Mr. Packlepoose to 
his feet and shoved him through into Num- 
ber Thirteen. The door slammed shut with 
the sharp click of a spring lock. 

“ Say,” whispered The Rat. “ I want his 
ring. Let me go into the room a minute.” 

The Ugly Mug snarled out a laugh. 
“You fool! you killed him.” 

[ 243 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ No ! ” exclaimed The Rat. “ Well, what’s 
the harm of my getting the ring then ? ” 
For answer the Ugly Mug slipped the 
bolt again. Then he slowly opened the door. 
The Rat peered in and drew back. The 
room was without a floor! Below the waters 
of the Sound washed out toward the great 
sea. 

Something had happened. 


[ 244 ] 


XXIV 


THE GREAT LAKES LIMITED. WHAT THE OBSER- 
VATION CAR OBSERVED. THE CONDUCTOR 
FINDS A SHIPMATE AND LOSES A BOY. THE 
MOUNTAIN HAS A SQUARE MEAL 

D ID you say, “ Poor Mr. Packle- 
poose”? Oh, I don’t know. The 
souse into the cold water was just 
what he needed. Instinctively he struck 
out and when he came to his full senses, he 
found himself swimming along and, of 
course, not far from shore. 

A few minutes later he crawled out and 
shook himself like a dog. A railroad track 
ran along near the shore. A long train 
blocked the way. It was a solid vestibuled 
train which had left the station but a few 
minutes before and was now delayed by a 
freight blockade in the yards. Mr. Packle- 
poose walked down to the end of the train 
[ 245 ] 


JUST THEN 


to get past it and noticed that every sleeper 
bore the words, in gold letters : — 

“THE GREAT LAKES LIMITED ” 

Mr. Packlepoose’s heart gave a jump. “If 
only I were on that train with a through 
ticket/’ he thought, “ in four or five days I 
could see my wife and Bumpybambooney.” 
But he had no ticket and no money and the 
train was shut up tight. He had heard of 
tramps riding the brake-beams under the 
trains, but Mr. Packlepoose was no tramp 
and anyway he had no desire to ride a few 
hundred miles, at most, and then to be put 
off among the mountains, or in the midst 
of the desert. 

He went around the train and the two 
green end-lights stared down at him, like the 
evil eyes of a very superior goblin looking 
through his glasses. The bulge of the car- 
roof above seemed to be a brow, the jut 
of the vestibule a nose, or the place where a 
[ 246 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


nose should be, and the brass base of the gate 
grinned like the teeth of a skeleton. 

“Pooh! pooh! 

Who are you? 

You’re a common person; please skidoo. 

I’m haughty and proud 

And I’m not allowed 

To associate with the vulgar crowd.” 

That is what the Observation Car observed, 
or appeared to observe, to Mr. Packlepoose, 
and it provoked him. 

“ I’ll show you,” he said and he seized 
the bars of the gate and scrambled over. 
Just then the engine whistled and the train 
moved forward. Mr. Packlepoose passed in- 
side and entered a vacant state-room and shut 
the door. He squeezed the water out of his 
clothes as best he could, washed his face and 
combed his hair and really did not look so 
bad as you might think when you consider 
that he had just come from a robber ship, a 
prize fight and a dip in the Sound with his 
clothes on. He lay down on the couch and 
[ 247 ] 


JUST THEN 


closed his eyes to rest a moment. It seemed 
to him he had been there but a few moments 
when a firm little hand stroked his face and 
a little voice said, “Pitty mans! pitty mans! 
Pitty man’s dead. Wate up, pitty mans and 
don’ be dead no more. Wate up and tell 
me ’tory.” 

Mr. Packlepoose opened his eyes. It was 
broad daylight. Somehow the conductor had 
overlooked him the night before and he had 
slept all night. A little boy had pushed his 
way into the state-room. 

“ Bless your little heart,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose, “ of course I’ll tell you a story.” 

His clothes were quite dried out, so he sat 
the child on his knee and started the story 
of Prince Gobblequick and the rubber-tired 
doughnut. He haj just reached the point 
where he says, “ And then when the Prince 
had swallowed the doughnut, it stuck in his 
throat and the Wicked Fairy pretended to 
be a doctor and tried to get the Princess to 
puncture the doughnut by shooting down the 
[ 248 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Prince’s throat with a rifle, when ” 

“ Berth check, please,” said the Pullman con- 
ductor, opening the door. 

“ I believe I have no berth check,” an- 
swered Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Where did you get on? ” asked the Pull- 
man conductor. 

“ Seattle.” 

“ Let me see your railroad ticket, please.” 

“ I have no railroad ticket.” 

The Pullman conductor gave him a sharp 
look and went to summon the train conductor. 
Now the train conductor had formerly been a 
sailor and he was also the father of the little 
boy on Mr. Packlepoose’s knee. 

“ Hurry up and tell me ’tory ’fore papa 
comes,” said the urchin. 

“ Well,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ the Prin- 
cess got the rifle and put in a cartridge and 
aimed it down the Prince’s throat as the 
Wicked Fairy told her to do. The Prince 
was gasping and choking and it seemed a 
question whether he would choke to death 
[ 249 ] 


JUST THEN 


before the Princess could shoot him, or die 
from the Princess’ bullet before he could 
choke to death. But, of course, if the Prince 
died from choking to death, the Princess 
would be the ruler of the country, while if 
the Princess killed him, the Prince would be 
dead and the Princess would be put in jail 
and the Wicked Fairy would seize the throne 
for the Bad Man. Well, the poor deluded 
Princess pointed the rifle down the Prince’s 
throat and pulled the trigger and ” 

“ Hello, shipmate, where do you hail 
from? ” asked the train conductor, appearing 
at the door with the Pullman conductor. 
Mr. Packlepoose had on the first mate’s 
clothes which he had got on the Delivery 
Wagon, and the train conductor was tickled 
to find a sailor, as he thought. 

“ From Seattle last,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

“ It beats me to know how you got through 
the gate without a billet,” said the conductor, 
meaning, of course, the depot gate. 

[ 250 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ I didn’t get through the gate. I climbed 
over it,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“What? what!” exclaimed the conductor. 
“ Douse my train-lights, but I don’t see how 
you could do that.” 

“ Come to the rear of the train and I’ll 
show you.” 

“ Oh, you came aboard over the stern,” 
said the conductor. “ Well, where are you 
bound? You don’t want to be keel-hauled 
as a stowaway. Hope you’ve had a prosper- 
ous run and are loaded to the scuppers with 
coin.” 

“ I haven’t a penny,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

“Well, shiver my car-wheels, but you must 
have had a high old time in Seattle. Where 
were you from before Seattle?” 

“ San Francisco.” 

The word fell like a stone in its effect. 
“You went through the quake?” 

“ And the fire,” nodded Mr. Packlepoose. 

“We can’t make a ship-mate walk the 
[ 251 ] 


JUST THEN 


plank who’s been through all that,” said the 
train conductor. 

“ Sorry,” said the Pullman conductor, 
shaking his head. “ Rules of the Company. 
I can’t carry him unless he pays.” 

“ I have this ring,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 
“ You can see it’s very valuable. Couldn’t 
you carry me and feed me for that? ” 

“Nothing but money goes,” said the Pull- 
man conductor. 

“ Wish I had the money, shipmate, and 
I’d pay for you myself,” said the train con- 
ductor. “ Tell you what,” he continued, 
turning to his companion, “ maybe some of 
these rich land-lubbers aboard would buy it 
from him.” 

“ We’ll, we’ll try it before we put him off,” 
said the Pullman conductor. 

“ There’s a cabin-load of ’em in the ob- 
servation car now, matey,” whispered the 
train conductor. “They ought to be feeling 
real good right after breakfast.” 

Mr. Packlepoose arose, sliding the little 
[ 252 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


boy off his knee. “ I want my ’tory! I want 
my ’tory!” cried the little boy. 

“ Ah, let him finish to satisfy Bubs,” said 
the train conductor. 

“No time to waste,” said the Pullman 
conductor gruffly. 

“ Well, I’m going to waste it just the 
same,” said Mr. Packlepoose, sitting down 
again and taking the child on his knee, “ and 
if you think you can put me off while I’m 
wasting it, you just try it. — Well, the Prin- 
cess pulled the trigger and the shot went 
down the Prince’s throat and he gave a 
hoarse cry and of course just as soon as she 
had fired the shot, the Princess came out 
of the spell which the Wicked Fairy had 
put upon her and when she found she had 
shot her beloved Prince, she fainted dead 
away. But what do you think? The Good 
Fairy had touched the bullet with his wand 
as it flew through the air and had turned 
the pellet of lead into a pellet of bread, just 
soft enough so that it wouldn’t hurt the 
[ 253 ] 


JUST THEN 


Prince and just hard enough so that it would 
puncture the rubber-tired doughnut, which 
was very clever work of the Good Fairy, I 
think. And the gun went ‘pang!’ and the 
rubber-tired doughnut went ‘bang!’ and 
the Princess dropped the rifle ‘ clang ! ’ and 
the Prince coughed up the doughnut 
‘whang!’ and the Good Fairy fairly sang 
and boxed the ears of the Wicked Fairy till 
they rang. And they all lived happy ever 
after.” 

Then Mr. Packlepoose went into the ob- 
servation car and stood in the center and 
said, “ Ladies and gentlemen, I am just from 
the San Francisco disaster. I have nothing 
left of any value except this ring. I wish 
to sell it for enough to get me back to 
Ohio. Do any of you care to buy it? ” 

“Fake!” grunted a fat, red-headed man 
in the corner, putting his paper up before his 
eyes. 

“Fraud!” sniffed the thin, yellow-eyed 
man at the writing desk, turning his back. 

[ 254 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“Phoney!” sneered the muscular, black- 
whiskered man, tilting his cigar and look- 
ing at the ring from under his heavy eye- 
lids. 

“ Gentlemen, gentlemen,” protested a 
fourth man, with a thin, smooth face and 
white hair. “ Aren’t you a little bit un- 
charitable? I had a brother in the earth- 
quake and if he has escaped, as I pray he 
has, I should be sorry to have him treated 
like this, if he needed help.” 

“Well, perhaps you’re right,” said the fat 
man, more good-naturedly, “ but I’ve helped 
a thousand fellows, it seems to me, who 
claimed to be from San Francisco and I 
suppose I’m getting sore.” 

“ Same here,” said the yellow-eyed man. 

“ Me, too,” said the Black Whiskers. 
“ And it does seem as if we ought to draw 
the line at chaps who can afford to ride on 
the Great Lakes Limited. But I’m willing 
to chip in.” 

“ I don’t want you to chip in,” said Mr. 

[ 255 ] 


JUST THEN 


Packlepoose. “Em merely trying to sell a 
very valuable ring at a very low price.” 

The white-faced, man took his glasses out 
of his pocket and put them on. “ May I 
see your ring? ” he asked. 

Mr. Packlepoose held out his hand. The 
white-faced gentleman turned even whiter. 
“My brother Richard’s ring! ” he cried. “ I 
gave it to him myself and I saw it on his 
finger not ten days ago.” 

“ Told you so,” said the fat, red man. 

“ He’s a looter,” said Yellow Eyes. 

“ It would serve him right if we threw 
him off the rear platform,” said Black Whis- 
kers. “ We’ll soon be at the Hughill cut- 
off.” 

“ Wait, gentlemen, wait,” said the white- 
faced man, in trembling tones. 

“ If that is my brother’s ring, it has his 
name and age engraved inside, ‘ To Rich at 
43’. If, by any possibility, this man is not 
a thief, he will show me the inside of the 
ring.” 

[ 256 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ If he doesn’t, we’ll break his neck,” said 
Black Whiskers. 

Mr. Packlepoose took off the ring. Sure 
enough, it was engraved just as the white- 
faced man said and the poor old gentleman 
cried over it a little. 

“ Look here,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ you 
ought to be glad instead of sorry, for I can 
tell you that your brother is saved. He gave 
me that ring for finding him in the ruins 
and pulling him out.” 

“ A likely story! ” roared the fat man. 

“ I wish I could believe it,” said the white- 
faced man, half sobbing. 

“ He ought to be shot,” said Yellow 
Eyes. 

“ I’m sorry he’s a sailor,” said the train 
conductor. “ Guess we’ll have to dump him 
off and send him back to ’Frisco.” 

“ No, no,” almost yelled Mr. Packlepoose, 
losing control of himself. “ I shan’t go back 
to San Francisco. I’m on my way to the 
Hockamaboury and I’ve been trying to get 
[ 257 ] 


JUST THEN 


to Bumpybambooney for months and I 
shan’t go back a step.” 

Of course Mr. Packlepoose was wrong to 
get excited, but when you remember all he 
had gone through I think you will agree 
that he had some excuse. It was the last 
straw when they threatened to send him back 
to the earthquake and the fire and the Blue 
Acorn. But it never pays to lose one’s tem- 
per, no matter what your troubles are, and 
it was bad for Mr. Packlepoose to lose his. 
The people on the train stared at each other, 
raised their brows and shook their heads. 
“Poor fellow! poor fellow!” said the white- 
faced man, “ don’t excite yourself. You’re 
among friends.” 

“I hear lots of ’em went that way in the 
quake,” grunted the fat man. 

“ Crazy as a loon. Just notice his lan- 
guage,” whispered Yellow Eyes. 

“ He’s dangerous anyhow,” said Black 
Whiskers, “ and I don’t propose to have my 
life in danger by leaving him loose. Leave 
[ 258 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


him to me. I’m the sheriff of Chuckaluck 
County and I know how to handle these fel- 
lows.” 

He drew a pair of hand-cuffs from his 
pocket and approached Mr. Packlepoose. 
“ If you try to put those things on me, I’ll 
brain you,” said Mr. Packlepoose, grabbing 
at a chair. 

By this time, everybody in the observation 
car thought he was a dangerous lunatic. 
They arose and prepared to attack him. The 
sheriff drew a gun. “ Now, then, all to- 
gether; rush him!” he yelled. 

As they came for him, Mr. Packlepoose 
darted out on the back platform and slammed 
the door shut, holding it tight. 

“What ’e matter, nice mans?” said a 
little voice, for the conductor’s small “ Bubs ” 
was there all by himself, everybody else being 
attracted by the trouble inside the car. 

Mr. Packlepoose hung grimly onto the 
door, though he knew it was only a matter 
of minutes before they would force it open 
[259 ] 


JUST THEN 


and then they would have him. What would 
happen to him then? Would they put him 
into an asylum? Or a jail? Or send him 
back to San Francisco? Would they 

But just then something happened. 

The train was crawling along the side of 
the mountain, along the Hughill cutoff. Be- 
low, the mountain sheered off for a thousand 
feet. Above, it arose for a mile or more with 
a steep slope. Down the steeps above them, 
with the speed of a waterfall and the roar 
of a dozen Niagaras, an avalanche came 
crashing. Great trees bent like straws, huge 
boulders as big as houses leaped into the 
air like pebbles. The train was directly in 
its path. 

Mr. Packlepoose gave one glance, grabbed 
the little boy, swung over the gate and 
dropped off. Right opposite was a cave, or 
recess, with the mountain stretching a shelf 
of rock over it. Mr. Packlepoose squeezed 
the little boy in as far as he could and 
crowded after. The great avalanche swept 
[ 260 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


the entire train into the valley, crushing it 
as if its cars were so many strawberry boxes. 
Mr. Packlepoose and the little boy were alive, 
but the opening where they had crawled in 
was buried beneath thousands of tons of rock. 
It was as if the mountain had shut its mouth 
and swallowed them. 

I am not going to say that Mr. Packle- 
poose wasn’t frightened. If it had not been 
for the little boy, I am sure he would have 
felt bad enough to lie down and die. Indeed, 
there didn’t seem to be anything else to do. 
But with the little boy to think of, he tried 
to be cheerful and to keep up his courage. 
He felt around the cavern to see if there 
were any possible opening. There were thin 
cracks and crevices, through which a little 
light and air entered, but beyond, the tons 
and tons of rock lay piled. On the surface 
of the innermost rock, drops of water seeped 
through, enough to relieve their worst thirst. 
Bubs began to cry and Mr. Packlepoose 
began to tell him stories. Stories and stories 
[ 261 ] 


JUST THEN 


and stories he told till Bubs went to sleep. 
He and Mr. Packlepoose both slept for sev- 
eral hours and then Bubs awoke and de- 
manded another story. So Mr. Packlepoose 
told him the story of Aladdin and the Forty- 
first Thief, which he said would explain the 
difference between old-time magic and new. 
In the story the Forty-first Thief had got 
Aladdin’s ring and lamp away from him and 
had imprisoned him in the robbers’ cave. He 
had no way to get out except by use of his 
magic wand and his magic wand was a stick 
of dynamite. Aladdin had just placed the 
magic wand where it would do the most good 
and had retreated to the farther end of the 
robbers’ cave to say the magic words : — 

“ Snap, crack and crash! 

Rock be chalk and cheese. 

Split, splat and smash! 

Open! I sneeze, I sneeze!” 

Across the continent Bumpybambooney 
waited and did not know that her father was 
[ 262 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

in the stomach of a mountain and could not 
hear her cries to him to come back. And 
inside the mountain, Mr. Packlepoose told 
the story of Aladdin and the Forty-first 
Thief and said the magic words, like Aladdin 
did, and pointed his finger at the wall. 

And just then something happened. 


[ 263 ] 


XXV 


THE SECRET SEVEN AND THE HOGHEIMER COM- 
PANY. DOES CHOKE-DAMP MAKE YOU CRAZY, 
OR CAN A HORSE TALK IN THE BOWELS OF 
THE EARTH? 

T HE Montana Monarch is a famous 
mine. It is very rich and the Hog- 
heimer Company which owns it is 
very rich, too. Also very greedy. When- 
ever it could, it has made its miners work 
as many hours each day as it could for 
as little money as it could. It has made 
them trade at stores which the Company 
owned and charged them more for groceries 
and clothing than the goods were worth, so 
that the miners were usually in debt to the 
Company for provisions instead of the Com- 
pany owing money to the men for wages. 

So the Secret Council of Seven called a 
meeting to consider a strike. They had to 
[ 264 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


be very secret about it, because the Hog- 
heimer Company didn’t allow the men to 
meet for such a purpose if they could help 
it. These men met in the new shaft of the 
lower level, the very deepest place in the 
mine. And the mine was a very deep one 
and struck far into the mountain. 

The Secret Seven hated the Hogheimer 
Company and the Hogheimers hated the 
Secret Seven. “ I move we call a strike of 
all the Montana Monarch workers,” said one. 

“ I say call a strike of all the miners of 
the state,” said a second. 

“ I move it be of all the miners of the 
country,” said a third. 

Then up arose Jim Lovell, a tall, sharp- 
featured fellow, who was the best friend and 
the worst enemy anyone could have. “ No,” 
said he, “ there’s no use striking against the 
Hogheimer Company. Let us strike, but let 
us strike in a different way. Let us strike 
the worst possible blow. Let us completely 
destroy this mine as a warning to all other 
[ 265 ] 


JUST THEN 


Hogheimers. There is enough giant powder 
and dynamite stored in this shaft to blow 
up the mountain. I’m going to lay a fuse 
to the powder, so as to shake the rocks down 
upon the dynamite and destroy the mine. 
Get out of the mine, every one of you.” 

Without waiting for consent Jim Lovell 
fixed the fuse and fired it. It was a des- 
perate and a criminal act and shows how 
hate makes hate and what hate does for 
men. Toward all other people Jim Lovell 
was a good-natured, kindly man. Toward 
the Hogheimers he was a reckless foe, caring 
nothing for their rights, or the rights of 
others who stood in the way. 

Jim Lovell fired the fuse. The rest rushed 
for the main shaft. Now powder and dyna- 
mite do not always explode just as you 
think they will. Besides Jim Lovell had not 
arranged the stuff so that it would explode 
in any particular way. He only wanted to 
rip up the mine so that it would be of no 
value to its owners, and he relied upon the 
[ 266 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


mere quantity of the powder and dynamite 
to do it. 

Jim fired the fuse and the Secret Seven 
ran. Before they had time to get out of the 
mine, Bang! R-rip! Crash! Bang! Roar! The 
Secret Seven turned white with fear and 
looked at each other tremblingly, all except 
Lovell, who grinned. “ Guess we might as 
well stay here as go out,” he said. 

“No, no, let’s get out quick!” said the 
others. 

“What’s your hurry to get into jail?” 
said Lovell. “ If we go out, we’ll be nabbed 
as dynamiters. If we stay in, we may be 
rescued as heroes. There’s no hurry.” 

The explosion had wrecked the lights and 
much of the machinery and the mine was as 
dark as a pocket. Now a cage came down 
the main shaft, lowered from the derrick at 
the top. The mine boss was in it. 

Lovell slipped back into the darkness and 
the others clamored to be taken up. They 
said nothing about Lovell and the mine boss 
[ 267 ] 


JUST THEN 


had not even known that they were in the 
mine. They vowed they had had nothing 
to do with the explosion and they secretly 
hoped Lovell would never be found, for fear 
he might boldly tell all the circumstances. 

As for Lovell, he slipped back into the 
mine and wandered around in the darkness. 
But the great explosion which had wrecked 
the electric lights had also stopped the fans 
which sucked the foul air out of the deep 
mine and pumped fresh air in. At that great 
depth, with the fans stopped, Lovell began 
to think of choke-damp, a gas which kills 
anyone who breathes it in a minute or two. 
Any moment he expected to feel the fearful 
choke-damp in his nostrils and the grip of 
death on his throat. As he crawled along, 
hardly knowing which way he was going, 
suddenly he heard a voice. 

Lovell’s heart almost stopped, for it was 
a voice which had never been heard in that 
mine. Then he thought he was going crazy, 
for the voice said, “ Pitty horse, pitty horse. 

[ 268 ] 



Hang on tight, cause old horse has to feel 
his way. 






SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Giddap home, pitty horse; le’s run away 
home.” It was the voice of a child, little 
more than a baby. How could a little child 
be down in that mine and so near where his 
great explosion had just occurred, almost 
great enough, he had thought to blow the 
mountain off the earth. And on a horse! 

Then he heard the horse’s voice which 
seemed to try hard to be cheerful, “ Heh-eh- 
eh-eh-eh-eh-eh ! ” whinnied the horse. “Yes, 
little driver; old horse is going home best he 
knows how. Hang on tight, ’cause old horse 
has to feel his way.” 

“ Who are you? ” almost yelled Jim Lovell. 

“Who are you and where are we?” 
sharply answered the horse. 

“ We’re at the bottom of the Montana 
Monarch, with the lights out and the fans 
stopped and we may choke to death any 
minute. How in the name of Satan did you 
and the kid get here?” 

“We were walled up in a cave by an 
avalanche. I was telling Bubs here the story 
[ 269 ] 


JUST THEN 


of Aladdin and the Forty-first Thief when 
the strangest thing happened. The side, the 
mside of our cave split open, making a crack 
as wide as a door. Bubs and I came through 
and here we are. You say we’re in a mine. 
Can’t we find our way to the main shaft 
and get out? ” 

“ Easy enough,” but I don’t want to go 
out,” said Lovell. 

“Well, we do. Which is the way?” 

“Get down on the ground and find the 
rails.” 

“The rails?” 

“ Cert. The rails the ore-cars run on. 
Then follow the rails.” 

“ But the rails run both ways and they 
must lead into many different cuts. It’s 
as black as pitch and we’d be lost in five 
minutes. In fact, we are lost.” 

“ Oh, punk! ” said Jim Lovell. “ I’ll start 
you the right way and after that you can 
tell by the point rail. Whenever you come 
to an intersection where the track leads two 
[ 270 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


ways, feel for the point rail and you can 
pick out the main track. I’ll show you if 
you’ll promise me you won’t say anything 
to anyone about me.” 

“ But you’ll die if you stay here.” 

“ That’s my business. Promise!” 

How can I promise? This little boy 
would be sure to let it out.” 

“ All right then,” said Lovell stubbornly. 
“ Stay here and smother.” 

“ Thank you kindly,” said Mr. Packlepoose, 
“ but Bubs and I don’t care to smother. I’ll 
have one look around and then I’ll make the 
best fight to get out I can.” 

He drew a match from his pocket and 
struck it. It flared an instant, showing the 
vague outlines of a ragged cavern with great 
masses of rock blocking the way, a little boy 
with bobbed hair, a desperate miner, and a 
cheery-faced man holding a match. Then 
it puffed out. 

“Choke-damp!” cried the miner. “No 
light can burn in choke damp. We’ll all go 
[ 271 ] 


JUST THEN 

out like that match in two shakes of a rat- 
tler’s tail.” 

There was an awful pause. The little boy 
began to cry softly. Jim Lovell sat straight 
up, then reached over and patted the little 
boy with one hand and gripped the hand of 
Mr. Packlepoose with the other. “ It’s all 
over,” he said solemnly. “ I’m sorry I couldn’t 
save you two.” 

Mr. Packlepoose shook his hand free. “ It 
isn’t all over,” he said. “ That match wasn’t 
smothered out. It blew out.” He wet his 
finger and held it up. A draft quickly cooled 
one side. “I’m going toward the wind,” he 
said, “ to find where it comes from.” 

They wound their way around the huge 
masses of rock and came to the shaft where 
the Secret Seven had met and it was like 
looking through a tunnel. The entire end 
of the shaft had blown out and the hole 
led out onto the side of the mountain. This 
had released part of the energy of the ex- 
plosion and explained why it had not done 
[ 272 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


greater damage to the main part of the mine. 
“ Why with this side-hole and the main 
shaft open, it was just like being in a big 
chimney, ,, laughed Mr. Packlepoose. “ There 
was a perfect draft all the time.” 

“ That’s so,” responded Lovell, “ and any- 
way, there’s never any choke-damp in a 
copper-mine. I must have been looney in 
there.” 

Mr. Packlepoose picked up Bubs and 
started on his way toward his own child who 
was still hoping for the return of the papa 
she had told to “Go away!” 


[ 273 ] 


XXVI 


THE CALMEST MAN SENDS MR. PACKLEPOOSE TO 
BILLINGS WITH BUBS. WELL, WELL! AT LAST 
WE KNOW WHY THERE ARE NO SODA FOUN- 
TAINS ON RAILROAD TRAINS 


YELL ran after them and said, 



“ Come to my shack and have dinner 


A ^ with me. I got you out of your 
cave the back way and you got me out of the 
mine by a side door. Let’s stick together a 
while longer. I bet the kid’s hungry, too.” 

“ Bubs is so hundry,” cried the little one. 

“ All right,” said Mr. Packlepoose. “ I 
could eat a brick without butter myself.” 

“ Say,” said Lovell, as they sat at table, 
“ ain’t you going to tell me all about your- 
self? I can’t make you out. You talk as 
neat as a school teacher, you got on sailor 
clothes, you’re as poor as a tramp and I 


[ 274 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


find you in a mine with a little boy who 
don’t belong to you. What’s the answer? ” 
“ I shan’t tell you,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 
“ The more I tell of myself the more people 
think I’m insane and the more trouble I get 
into. I can hardly believe, myself, all that 
has happened to me since I left home. If 
you want to know my name, it’s Packle- 
poose. That isn’t my real name; it’s a nick- 
name which my little girl gave me, but it 
happened that I gave it as my name to a 
little boy whom I met on the first day of 
my journey and by a series of events it has 
stuck to me. I’m obstinate about it now and 
I have decided to be Mr. Packlepoose to 
the end of the chapter; that is, till I get 
home.” 

“ Well, I like your nerve,” said Lovell 
(and he didn’t mean it in a slangy sense), 
“ and I’d like to give you a lift. I haven’t got 

much money, but if a little will help ” 

“ Thank you,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ but 
that’s another thing about which I’ve de- 
[ 275 ] 


JUST THEN 


cided. Every time on this trip that someone 
has been kind to me and has loaned me 
money, some horrible accident, by which I’ve 
lost it all, has happened immediately. I owe 
more than I can easily pay and I’ve decided 
not to borrow another cent if I have to walk 
all the way to Bumpybambooney.” 

“ Never heard of no such place,” said 
Lovell. 

“ She isn’t a place,” answered Mr. Packle- 
poose. 

“Oh, some of your folks. Well, don’t you 
want to telegraph her? ” 

“ That’s still another thing. Every time 
I have telegraphed, or cabled, or even tried 
to do so, to the effect that I was starting 
homeward, there has been some unbelievable 
thing which has stopped me and turned me 
aside. I don’t want to be superstitious, but 
I’m going to deliver the next telegram 
myself.” 

“ Well, you’re certainly an odd duck,” said 
Lovell. “What is it that you want then?” 
[ 276 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ You don’t know what I’ve been through, 
or maybe I wouldn’t seem so odd. All I’m 
asking now is to be allowed to touch the 
shores of old Lake Erie and then I’ll swim 
home!” 

Mr. Packlepoose laughed as he said this, 
and so did Lovell and so did Bubs. “ Come 
along, Bubs,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ we’ve 
got to find the railroad.” He took the little 
boy by the hand and they bade Lovell good- 
by, struck directly toward the track and 
down the track to the station, which was a 
mile or two east of the place where the 
avalanche had wrecked the train the day 
before. 

Going down the track they had to dodge 
wrecking trains and hospital cars and supply- 
trains, as well as the freight and passenger 
trains held up by the avalanche and the 
wreck. Railroad men, from assistant general 
passenger agents down to freight handlers 
swarmed and sweated and shouted and 
worked. If it had not been for Bubs, Mr. 
[ 277 ] 


JUST THEN 


Packlepoose would have had no attention 
whatever, everybody was so busy. 

Mr. Packlepoose walked up to the calmest 
man he could find and held the little boy up 
before him. “ This is Bubs, son of Con- 
ductor Shipman of the wrecked train. He 
lives in Billings where his mother is. I res- 
cued him and if you like I’ll take him to 
Billings and see that he finds his mother.” 

The Calmest Man fired a few rapid ques- 
tions at Mr. Packlepoose. “ What sort of a 
looking man was Shipman? And the Pull- 
man conductor? How long had you been 
on the train? What time did the train leave 
Seattle?” etc. 

Then he took out a card and a fountain 
pen, scribbled a few words and said, “ We’re 
making up an emergency train right now to 
start East inside of half an hour. This card 
will take care of you and the boy as far as 
Billings. Make it as easy for Mrs. Ship- 
man as you can. If at any extra expense, 
send bill to our offices in St. Paul.” 

[ 278 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

Poor little Bubs did not know what had 
happened to his papa. He was quite happy 
in Mr. Packlepoose’s company and very glad 
to see his mother upon arrival at Billings. 
As for poor Mrs. Shipman, she wept with 
joy to see Bubs who was saved and wept 
with grief over Bubs’ father who, she feared, 
was lost in the wreck. 

After doing what he could to comfort her, 
Mr. Packlepoose took his leave, and as far 
as I know, he never learned whether the 
sailor-conductor came out of the wreck alive 
or not. I hope he came out alive. 

Mr. Packlepoose went up to the hotel and 
sat down at the long writing table which 
stretched along the office. He wanted to 
think what to do next and how he could con- 
tinue his journey eastward. Opposite to 
him sat a rather heavy gentleman with a 
gray beard and the air of a man who knows 
things and does things. Mr. Packlepoose 
looked at him and felt sure he had seen his 
picture in the newspapers and magazines. 

[ 279 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ I beg your pardon,” he said, “ but is it 
possible you are Mr. Hill.” 

“ It’s possible I am Mr. Mountain,” re- 
turned the old gentleman, “ but what of it? ” 

“ Well,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ I’ve just 
been through the Hughill wreck on your 
road. I’m very anxious to get home and I 
thought I might be of enough service to you 
for you to send me East.” 

“Humph!” said the old gentleman. “If 
you can tell me one single thing to improve 
our service, I’ll send you to St. Paul to talk 
it over with the General Passenger Agent. 
But it must be something which hasn’t been 
suggested before.” 

“ Oh, that’s easy,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 
“ Which is the most popular drink in 
America?” 

“ Tut, tut. I haven’t time to bother with 
that,” said the old gentleman testily. “ Beer, 
I suppose.” 

“Wrong!” said Mr. Packlepoose. “It’s 
ice cream soda. Now there isn’t a train in 
[ 280 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


America running a soda fountain. The entire 
traveling public is deprived of its ice cream 
soda. Put a fountain on every through train 
and the reputation of your road is made.” 

The old gentleman showed signs of vexa- 
tion and then burst out laughing. “ I had 
never thought of that before,” he said. “ I 
shall have to keep my promise. The law T 
doesn’t allow passes, but I’ll buy you a 
ticket to St. Paul and give you a letter to 
— let me see, we’d better make it to Mr. 
Noble.” The old gentleman chuckled to 
himself and then added, “ I won’t say that 
he’ll accept your suggestion, but it will be a 
new one to him, I’m sure.” 

That’s how Mr. Packlepoose got as far as 
St. Paul, but when he presented the old 
gentleman’s letter at the office of the General 
Passenger Agent in St. Paul, what do you 
think happened? What? Why, nothing at 
all, or at least nothing important. 

He gave his letter to the office boy, who 
put it on the desk of the stenographer, who 
[ 281 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


read it and handed it to the chief clerk, 
who sent it back to Mr. Packlepoose, so that 
it never got to Mr. Noble at all. Then 
Mr. Packlepoose took his letter and read: — 

“ I don’t know anything about this man 
except that he mistook me for Jim Hill and 
made me laugh. A laugh is worth more to 
me than money. I promised to send him to 
you and I always keep my promises. That’s 
all. 

“ John Smith.” 

The old gentleman had played a joke on 
Mr. Packlepoose, but Mr. Packlepoose didn’t 
care, because he had got as far as St. Paul 
anyway. But that is why there are still no 
soda fountains on railroad trains! 


[ 282 ] 


XXVII 


WHO EVER HEARD OF A PROMOTER OF PEANUTS? 
THE SHARPENER OF LADIES’ LEAD PENCILS, 
THE CRANKER-UP OF MILLIONAIRES’ MOTOR 
CARS AND THE NEEDLE-THREADER FOR NEAR- 
SIGHTED BACHELORS, ALSO THE RESCUER 
OF CRAMP-CATCHERS 

M R. PACKLEPOOSE went down 
from the railroad offices and into 
the street. It was late in the after- 
noon. He had had luncheon on the train, for 
the old gentleman’s ticket money had in- 
cluded meals as far as St. Paul, but he was 
now without money again and with no supper 
in sight and no bed to sleep in. 

To be sure, it would not have done him 
much good if he had had a bed, because he 
had no place to put it. 

Now, you boys and girls who have been 
following Mr. Packlepoose, have you ever 
thought what you would do if you had no 

[ 283 ] 



JUST THEN 


money, nothing to eat and no place to sleep? 
You eat your three meals a day because some- 
body serves them to you, and sometimes you 
are cross and ungrateful and you say you 
don’t like this which is on the table and 
“ Why don’t we ever have that ? " which does 
not happen to be on the table. And some- 
times when father or mother says, “ Bed- 
time!” you pout and fret, when you ought 
to be glad you have a good, clean, comfy 
bed to go to, as Mr. Packlepoose would have 
been glad, had he had one. 

So Mr. Packlepoose said to himself, 
“ What can I do? ” He knew, as you know, 
that all food comes directly, or indirectly, 
from the earth, but he couldn’t plant a crop 
and wait for it to grow, could he? 

The next best thing would be to hire out 
to someone who had a crop, or who had 
money, but he would have to do a month’s 
work, or a week’s, or at least a day’s work, 
before he would be paid and that wouldn’t 
get him supper and bed and breakfast. He 
[ 284 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


couldn’t beg. He wouldn’t steal. What then 
could he do? 

The first thing he saw was a peanut and 
fruit stand. Walking up to the owner he 
said, “How’s business?” 

“If it was as good as it is bad, it would 
be better,” said the man, with an Irish accent. 

“Why don’t you advertise?” asked Mr. 
Packlepoose. 

“Go on wid ye! How could I be after 
advertisin’ the peanut business?” 

“ I’ll do it for you, if you’ll give me one- 
half the profits,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“Wan half the profits! Sure I don’t make 
enough to kape body and soul from partin’ 
and how could I give yez wan half the 
profits.” 

“ Because I’ll increase your business. If 
I don’t sell out your entire stock before dark, 
you needn’t pay me a cent.” 

“Me whole stock! Man alive, I don’t sell 
that much in a wake.” 

“ Is it a go, then? ” asked Mr. Packlepoose. 

[ 285 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ It sure is and it’s a fine laugh I’ll have 
on yez. Advertisin’! ha, ha! advertisin !” 

“ Then you must do as I tell you,” said 
Mr. Packlepoose and proceeded to tell his 
plan. Then he stood on the edge of the 
side-walk, balanced a shelled peanut on the 
end of his nose, barked like a dog, tossed it 
into the air with a motion of his head, caught 
it in his mouth and ate it. He did this a 
few times with a perfectly serious face and a 
little crowd gathered. Then he called, 
“Here are your genuine St. Paul peanuts, 
hot from the roaster and only ten cents a 
dozen. Every man who buys a dozen gets 
three shots at Shamus Dugan. Hit him 
once, you get a bag of these incomparable 
peanuts. Plit him twice, you get a dozen 
oranges. Hit him three times, you get a 
ticket to your own funeral. Step up and 
try your luck. Peanuts are good for that 
empty feeling and as long as your children 
are eating oranges they are not making mud 
pies on the piano.” 


[ 286 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


One or two young fellows handed in their 
dimes with a grin and Shamus gave them the 
peanuts “ hot from the roaster,” as promised, 
The peanuts were so hot the buyers dropped 
them at once and didn’t even try to throw. 
The crowd laughed and a few bought bags 
of peanuts and fruit and hurried on. Then 
a man with gloves on tried the game. Mr. 
Packlepoose placed Shamus at the curb and 
the thrower against the wall across the side- 
walk. When he tried to throw he bumped 
his elbow against the wall and the crowd 
laughed again and more buyers came. 

But now up came a tall, sinewy policeman 
with a long, thin stick and crowded all the 
people off the side- walk. “Move on you!” 
he said to Mr. Packlepoose and Shamus. 
“ You’re blocking the whole street.” 

“ My dear man,” said Mr. Packlepoose, 
“I’m only talking. That’s not against the 
law.” 

“Where’s your permit?” asked the police- 


man. 


[ 287 ] 


JUST THEN 


“ My permit’s in the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence and the Constitution of the United 
States,” smiled Mr. Packlepoose. The tall, 
sinewy policeman didn’t quite understand 
this, so he passed on, saying, “Don’t let me 
catch you here when I come back.” 

But before he came back, it was all over. 
To sell anything is only a matter of attract- 
ing the attention of enough people and it 
was not long before the astonished Shamus 
Dugan had sold his stand out as clean as a 
waxed floor and was scratching his head over 
the difficult problem of dividing the money, 
which he had in a cigar box. At first he was 
going to give Mr. Packlepoose half of all 
he had taken in, but Mr. Packlepoose pointed 
out that he had only asked for half of the 
profits. Then Shamus was only going to 
give him half the dimes paid for the peanuts 
to throw, but Mr. Packlepoose showed him 
that that was only a means of advertising and 
that the greater profits came from the regu- 
lar sales. Then Shamus held out the cigar- 
[ 288 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


box to Mr. Packlepoose and said, “ Here’s 
me safe and the combynation lock is not 
har-rd for a clever b’y to open. Take what 
yez want, for the bottom would scarce be 
spotted if it wasn’t fer yourself.” 

Mr. Packlepoose laughed and took out a 
dollar only, giving the rest back to Shamus. 
As he turned away, he noticed an auto con- 
taining four half -grown boys standing at the 
curb. The chauffeur stepped out and touched 
the visor of his cap, saying, “ I salute you as 
a fellow-member of the Self-Supporting 
Sons of Society.” 

“ But I’m not,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Oh, yes, you are. Step into the club- 
room and you shall be initiated at once.” 

He motioned toward the auto and Mr. 
Packlepoose got in. “ Is this auto your 
club-room?” he asked. 

“ It is,” answered the chauffeur and also 
our work-room. We are on the way to our 
headquarters, where we dine and sleep. 
Gentlemen, allow me to introduce our new 
[ 289 ] 


JUST THEN 


member, Packlepoose, the Promoter of Pea- 
nuts.” Each boy in the auto bowed pro- 
foundly to Mr. Packlepoose and said: — 

“ Never, never, never, 

Did we ever, ever 

Meet a man who had a plan 

Which seemed to us so clever, 

Clever! clever! clever!” 

Then they all sat bolt upright and stared 
straight ahead, as the car (a powerful and 
expensive machine) moved away. As it did 
so, Mr. Packlepoose noticed a roly-poly little 
man, with a high silk hat and side whiskers 
making motions in his direction from the side- 
walk. It did not occur to Mr. Packlepoose 
that the roly-poly man was motioning to him, 
until he saw the silk hat and the side whiskers 
pursuing the car, which, however, soon lost 
him. 

The motor-car turned into a fashionable 
street and stopped before a fine mansion. A 
footman ran down to open the door, a boy 
in buttons met them at the steps of the house, 
[ 290 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

another servant took their hats and a third 
led Mr. Packlepoose to a bedroom with a 
bath all ready, and dinner clothes laid out 
on the bed for him. Dinner was announced 
a little later and it was an excellent meal and 
served in the best of taste. When dessert 
was served, the boy who had acted as chauf- 
feur arose and said, “ Self-Supporting Sons 
of Society, you have all met Comrade Packle- 
poose, the distinguished Promoter of Peanuts 
and he is now to meet you. Comrade Horace, 
you will testify.” Horace, the Comrade- 
Secretary of the Society, was a mild-eyed 
youth with red eyelashes and blue eyes. He 
arose and remarked, “ Mr. Comrade-Presi- 
dent, my occupation is that of a Sharpener 
of Lead Pencils for Ladies. I conceived 
the idea that very few ladies are successful 
pencil sharpeners and that, as so many of 
them are now business women, authors and 
presidents of suffragette societies, there 
would be a great demand for an expert lead- 
pencil sharpener.” 


[ 291 ] 


JUST THEN 

At these words the other members arose 
and bowed and said solemnly: — 

“ Never, never, never 
Did we ever, ever 
Meet a man who had a plan 
Which seemed to us so clever, 

Clever! clever! clever !” 

“Unfortunately,” continued the Pencil 
Sharpener, “ I found it difficult to meet the 
lead-pencil ladies, at the proper moment. 
Some of them had husbands, sons or brothers 
who sharpened their pencils, some had 
mechanical sharpeners, and some had even 
learned to sharpen pencils themselves. My 
earnings for the day were, therefore, not 
much in excess of eleven dollars.” 

“ Eleven dollars ! Excellent ! ” cried Mr. 
Packlepoose. 

Horace was embarrassed. “ I didn’t ex- 
actly say eleven dollars,” he stammered. “ I 
said ‘ not much in excess of eleven dollars.’ 
As a matter of fact, I only earned eleven 
[ 292 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

cents, but that, you will admit, is really not 
more than eleven dollars, is it?” 

Mr. Packlepoose laughed, but the others 
took this very seriously. A second boy, the 
Comrade-Treasurer, gave his occupation as 
a Needle-Threader for Near-Sighted Bache- 
lors, but complained that the bachelors who 
should have employed him sent their clothes 
to the tailor’s. The third boy said he had 
sought employment as Heroic Rescuer of 
Cramp- Catchers, but although he had stood 
upon the banks of the river all day, no one 
had employed him as a Hero. The fourth 
boy was a Cranker-Up of Millionaires’ Motor 
Cars, but he had been crowded out of em- 
ployment by the chauffeurs whom the mil- 
lionaires employed to run their self-starting 
cars. Every time one of them told of an 
idea, the rest would arise and bow and re- 
peat the rhyme of “ Never, never, never,” 
etc. 

“ But,” said Mr. Packlepoose, when they 
were all through, “ will you please explain 
[ 293 ] 


JUST THEN 


to me how you live in such magnificence upon 
such small earnings ?” 

“ Oh,” said the Comrade-President, “ our 
Comrade-Secretary is the son of a Minne- 
apolis miller, our Comrade-Treasurer of a 
Milwaukee brewer, Our Comrade-High-Pri- 
vate of a Cleveland oil producer and I am 
the son of a Chicago pork packer. We admit 
that as yet we are not' quite self-supporting, 
but it is our ideal to be so and we have 
heard that it is well to have the proper ideal. 
We are always trying new plans to be self- 
supporting and when we saw you do your 
fine work as a Promoter of Peanuts we knew 
you would be in sympathy with us and so 
we have elected you Honorary Member and 
to-morrow we want you to teach us how 
to become Self-Supporting Sons. But now 
our day’s work is done, our reports are in 
and at night we always enjoy ourselves. Do 
you know any stories?” 

So Mr. Packlepoose told them stories and 
it was surprising, as well as amusing, to see 
[ 294 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


the change in the boys. From solemn little 
manikins they turned to laughing, shouting, 
natural youngsters. “ Boys,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose, “ when you asked me to be 
your instructor, you were all so solemn and 
unnatural, I couldn’t think of any way to 
help you in your work. But now that you 
are just boys, I have a plan.” 

The next morning they arose bright and 
early and went down to the Twin Cities 
Book Yard. 


[ 295 ] 


XXVIII 


THE SELF-SUPPORTING SONS OF SOCIETY TAKE A 
LESSON, BUT LOSE THEIR INSTRUCTOR. THE 
ROLY-POLY ROPE-WALKER TAKES A FEW 
STEPS TO THE TRANSOM AND THE SAILORS’ 
CIRCUS HIRES A NEW MAN 


HE Book Yard was really a Book 



Shop, but it was large and the books 


were piled up like bricks in a yard. 
The owner was a little old gentleman with 
white hair which shone like new silver and 
his pink skull shone along the part in the 
middle like a line of coral. 

He came forward rubbing his long, thin 
hands, as Mr. Packlepoose and the Self- 
Supporting Sons entered. “ Which are 
your Six Slowest Sellers ?” asked Mr. 
Packlepoose. 


“ Er — uh — , what’s that?” asked the 
bookseller. 


[ 296 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ Is there any book of which you have a 
large number and which doesn’t sell?” 

“Bless me! yes,” said the old book-seller, 
“ several of them, but you are a new kind of 
a book-collector, if you’re looking for that 
kind.” 

“ Suppose that the books sell for a dollar 
and a half and cost you ninety cents, you 
could easily afford to pay fifteen cents each 
for selling them, couldn’t you? ” 

“ Oh, y-e-e-es, yes, if enough of them were 
sold.” 

“ Very well. Bring on your books and 
put five chairs in the window.” 

“ But, my dear sir,” protested the astonished 
book-seller, “ I— I ” 

“ What’s the worst selling book you have?” 
interrupted Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Oh, this humorous one. It almost makes 
me weep. Look at the pile! It’s really a 
good book, too, but the last one the author 
wrote was a serious ‘ History of the Multipli- 
cation Table,’ and so many people bought it 
[ 297 ] 


JUST THEN 

for a funny book that they won’t buy this 
one at all.” 

Mr. Packlepoose took up a copy and read 
a paragraph. He chuckled. Then he read 
it aloud to the boys and they laughed four 
hearty boyish laughs, just as they had the 
night before. Mr. Packlepoose led the way 
to the window, still reading, and the boys 
still laughing. They sat down in the win- 
dow and soon all the people in the store 
gathered around and there was a crowd out- 
side pressing against the glass, but Mr. 
Packlepoose and the boys paid absolutely no 
attention to them. 

Everybody likes to laugh and laughter 
is as catching as measles. Two or three cus- 
tomers who were in a hurry bought books 
and took them away. Buying is also catch- 
ing. Very soon the pile of books was coming 
down like a brick wall at a fire. The old 
book-seller was rubbing his thin, white hands 
in great glee. 

J ust then something happened. 

[ 298 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


A roly-poly little man with a tall silk hat 
and side whiskers sidled along the outskirts 
of the crowd. He was too short to see over 
the heads of the people, so he climbed onto 
the seat of a wagon which stood at the curb 
and this is what he saw: A man in evening 
clothes sat reading to four boys who sat with 
their mouths open, swallowing every word. 
Every minute or so all of them would burst 
into laughter, holding their sides, throwing 
back their heads and rocking to and fro. 
Not a sound could be heard, but every time 
the boys laughed the crowd on the sidewalk 
ha-ha’d in sympathy. 

“ Fine! fine! ” said the man on the wagon; 
“ and it’s the same fellow.” The door-way 
was jammed with people trying to get in to 
hear what it was all about. Then a tall, 
sinewy policeman, with a long, thin club 
crowded into the store and tapped Mr. 
Packlepoose on the shoulder. Mr. Packle- 
poose buried his nose in the book and read 
on and the boys laughed harder than ever. 

[ 299 ] 


JUST THEN 


“That’s the best touch yet,” breathed the 
man on the wagon. 

Now the long, lank policeman grabbed Mr. 
Packlepoose and yelled something in his ear. 
Mr. Packlepoose laughed in his face and 
turned back to the book. The boys laughed, 
too. 

“Excellent!” cried the dumpy little man 
on the wagon. 

But now the policeman dragged Mr. 
Packlepoose from his chair. “ Why, he’s in 
earnest!” cried the roly-poly man to himself. 

“ Well, why else do you t’ink this hurry-up 
wagon is here? ” cried the wagon’s driver, and 
the roly-poly one noticed for the first time 
that he was a policeman also. “ Git offen this 
wagon,” said the driver. “You is certingly 
got yer gall with you. I just been watchin’ 
yous to see how far yous would go. Git off, 
I say.” 

“ Certainly, my dear fellow,” cried the 
little man, giving a swift glance at the crowd 
which was jammed between the wagon and 
[ 300 ] 






SOMETHING HAPPENED 


the door of the Book Yard. Suddenly he 
balanced his umbrella on his hands, stepped 
swiftly off the wagon onto the shoulder of a 
man in the crowd and, in a jiffy, ran from 
shoulder to shoulder across the crowd to the 
door. He caught the ledge of the open 
transom above the door and swung himself 
across so that his head was in the. store and 
his feet kicked the air outside. He was just 
in time to hear the policeman say, “ I warned 
you last night to quit this blockadin’ the 
side-walk and now you go with me.” 

“ But I’m not on the side-walk,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose. “ I’m in this gentleman’s 
store.” 

“ Really you must not appeal to me,” said 
the timid, old book-man. “ I really didn’t 
engage you, you know, and on the whole I 
cannot say that I quite approve of you.” 

“Oh! oh! oh!” cried the boys. “Didn’t 
you seat us here. Haven’t we been selling 
your rotten old books for you? Never you 
fear, Papa Packlepoose, we’ll stand by you.” 

[ 301 ] 


JUST THEN 


“You are good, game boys,” said Mr. 
Packlepoose quietly, “ but you’ll oblige me 
by getting into your car and keeping out of 
this.” 

“But who’ll go your bail?” asked the 
boys. 

“ I will,” roared a voice above their heads. 
“ You, Papa Packlepoose, if that’s your name, 
I engage you as advertising manager for 
the Sailors’ Supreme Supererogatory Circus 
at a stupendous salary.” 

“What’s the route of your circus?” asked 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Opens in delirious Duluth to-morrow, and 
pompously proceeds down the larger Lakes 
to the omnipotent ocean, stupendously show- 
ing at all magnificent metropolises, such as 
peerless Petoskey, proud Port Huron, 
dauntless Detroit, clarified Cleveland, benefi- 
cent ” 

“ I accept,” said Mr. Packlepoose, “ if this 

fellow ” But the circus-man was shaking 

his head vigorously, by which Mr. Packle- 
[302 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


poose understood that he was to allow him- 
self to be arrested. 

So off to the station in the patrol-wagon 
rode Mr. Packlepoose and the dumpy little 
man climbed on the step behind and adver- 
tised the Sailors’ Circus all the way to the 
station. There, the sergeant in charge dis- 
missed Mr. Packlepoose, after a few words 
with the circus-man and the officer who made 
the arrest. 

A few hours after Mr. Packlepoose was in 
Duluth busily at work for the Sailors’ Su- 
preme and Supererogatory Circus. 


[ 303 ] 


XXIX 


ZACHARY ZENO TELLS HIS STORY AND SEVERAL 
THINGS HAPPEN TO WHICH NO ATTENTION 
IS PAID. BEEF-AND-MUTTON-CHOPS DEMANDS 
DUTY AND THE PETREL CHASES THE CIRCUS- 
SHIP 


Sailors’ Circus is a little idea 
of my own,” said the dumpy little 
man, whose name was Zachary 
Zeno. “ The cities are getting so crowded 
that there is hardly room to pitch a circus 
tent any more and it is a tremendous trouble 
loading and unloading from the trains, erect- 
ing tents and seats. We are overcharged 
for licenses and for ground rent, so by having 
our own ship and giving the circus right on 
the boat, we save a lot of trouble and ex- 
pense. Besides we get the patronage of the 
sailors, who are good spenders. Now your 
salary will be a thousand dollars a week and 

[ 304 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

twenty-seven dollars of it will be in real 
money.” 

“ Anything suits me,” said Mr. Packle- 
poose, “ as long as you’re going toward Lake 
Erie.” 

“ Speaking of Lake Erie,” said Zachary 
Zeno, “ reminds me that it was there I got 
my idea of the Sailors’ Circus. I was on the 
Northwest one day cleared from Buffalo and 
bound for Duluth. A few hours out and 
along toward evening we were caught in a 
hard gale and blown close in to shore. It was 
nasty while it lasted, but didn’t last long. 
Just as it was over and we were getting on 
our course again, the lookout spied two 
strange looking things swimming near the 
boat. It was nearly dark and they were all 
but drowned, but we managed to get them 
aboard and into a state-room and what do 
you think they were? Lions! Yes, sir, real 
lions. Not sea lions, nor yet lake lions, hut 
real land lions. Being an old circus-man, I 
was completely flabbergasted, for I never had 
[ 305 ] 


JUST THEN 


the Circus-ship steamed up to the wharf, a 
beefy-faced customs official, with mutton-chop 
whiskers, came aboard and asked them if 
they had anything dutiable. 

“ Oh, no,” said Zachary Zeno, “ we’re not 
going to land this stupendous solidification 
of ” 

“ Circuses are dutiable,” interrupted Beef- 
and-Mutton-Chops. 

“ But we’re not going ashore,” protested 
Mr. Packlepoose. 

“ Can’t help it, me dear man. You’re in 
British waters and you’ll ’ave to pay duty. 
You hintend to give a hexhibition, I ’ave no 
doubt, and you’ll take haway hour good 
British money, so really you know, you 
might as well be in the bloomin’ country as 
long as you’re in far enough to take things 
out of it.” 

“ Oh, very well,” said Zeno, “ we’ll leave 
without giving a show.” 

“ Too late now, me dear man. I shall ’ave 
to hattach ’is mawjesty’s seal, you know.” 

[ 308 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ Bosh and buncombe,” said Zachary Zeno 
angrily. 

“No violence, me dear man, no violence. 
Consider yourself under arrest, me dear fel- 
low. Blawst me, don’t you know you are 
hopposing ’is mawjesty’s officer, sir, and 
thereby hopposing ’is mawjesty’s self, sir.” 

For answer the exasperated Zeno jumped 
upon the beefy body with the mutton-chop 
whiskers and bore him to the deck. “ Mutiny! 
rebellion! assault of ’is mawjesty!” cried the 
officer. 

Mr. Packlepoose saw that Zeno’s action 
would get them all into trouble. Doubtless 
Beef-and-Mutton-Chops was a new official 
who didn’t know the proper rulings and who 
was drunk with “ a little brief authority ” 
(as Shakespeare calls it), but wrong as he 
was, Zeno’s action was more so. No one 
but Mr. Packlepoose knew how he had 
counted the hours till they should reach Lake 
Erie and now that they were almost in sight 
of its waters, he was impatient of anything 
[ 303 ] 


JUST THEN 


which should delay them. He had no notion 
to spend the day and night in a Canadian 
jail. 

“Cast off those lines!” he shouted to the 
deck hands. “ Steam up,” he signaled to 
the engine-room. “Man the wheel!” he 
called to a sailor. 

In a few minutes the Circus-ship was steam- 
ing down the strait toward Lake Erie, with 
Beef-and-Mutton-Chops aboard. Mr. Packle- 
poose was happy, for Lake Erie was in 
sight. 

An hour or two later he sought out 
Zachary and said, “ Mr. Zeno, here we are 
in Lake Erie, which is, in a way, my native 
home. I made a vow that as soon as I 
reached these waters, I was going straight 
home if I had to swim for it. Please accept 
my resignation and let me have what money 
is coming to me, for I’m through.” 

“ Oh, come now,” pleaded Zeno, “ you 
can’t desert me in that way. You’re respon- 
sible for our running away from British 
[ 310 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


authority and we’re still in Canadian waters, 
you know.” 

“No use talking,” said Mr. Packlepoose. 
“No matter where we touch the shores of 
Erie, I’m going home.” 

“ Maybe so, me man,” said Beef-and- 
Mutton-Chops, who was near, “ maybe so, 
but first I fawncy you’ll ’ave to reckon with 
’is mawjesty. Look yonder, me good man, 
look yonder.” 

They looked and saw a black streak of 
smoke on the horizon. “What’s that?” 
asked Zeno. 

“ I fawncy it’s ’is mawjesty’s cutter, 
Petrel . Not such a large addition to the 
glory of ’is mawjesty’s navy, but quite suffi- 
cient, I fawncy, for present purposes.” 

“ Bosh and buncombe,” said Zeno. “ We’ve 
really not done anything. You had no busi- 
ness detaining us and if you had kept off 
our boat, you wouldn’t have been carried 
away.” 

“ Hinsulting ’is mawjesty!” said Beef- 
[ 311 ] 


JUST THEN 


and-Mutton, drawing himself up. “ Haye, 
me good man, and hassaulting ’im, too. I 
quite fawncy you’ll ’ave to pay for that, you 
know.” 

Another hour or two passed and The Petrel 
showed her hull and gradually drew nearer 
and nearer. The Circus-ship held to her 
course. A little nearer and The Petrel ran 
up her flag and a puff of white smoke came 
from her bow, like a whiff of white from the - 
mouth of a smoker. “What’s that?” ex- 
claimed Zeno. 

“ Just a signal, me good man, a signal 
from ’is mawjesty. “ You’d better lie to, 
you know, or the next time she spits, there’ll 
be a sting in it.” 

“ Well, of all the impudence,” cried Mr. 
Packlepoose reddening. 

“Pay no attention to ’em!” roared Zeno. 

The Petrel drew nearer. Again her small 
gun spoke and this time a shot whistled in 
front of the Circus-ship. 

“ Just to show you’re in range, you know,”. 

[ 312 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 

said Beef-and-Mutton, “not really trying to 
’it you, me good man. Not yet.” 

“ To be fired upon on Lake Erie! ” raged 
Mr. Packlepoose. “ I’ve been buffeted clear 
around the world and thought I had suffered 
every outrage, but this is too much.” 

“ There’s a pretty storm coming out of the 
northwest,” said Zeno, “ and it’s my opinion 
we’re pretty nearly into American waters. If 
we could only stave her off for a few minutes 
more ! ” 

On the other side of the Lake was a little 
girl, still wishing and hoping, and having no 
idea that her father was but a few miles away, 
but in danger every minute of being captured 
and turned back. 


[ 313 ] 


XXX 


NEVER SET FIRE TO A SHIP TO WARM YOURSELF. 
IT IS A HOT TIME AND THE ANIMALS ARE 
LOOSE. WHY, CERTAINLY THERE ARE LIONS 
IN LAKE ERIE. AND WHAT DO YOU THINK 
HAPPENED THEN? 

M R. PACKLEPOOSE suddenly 
seized Beef-and-Mutton and pointed 
to a small boat swinging at the 
davits. A half dozen of the crew rushed for- 
ward at his summons. “ Put this man in that 
boat ! Throw in life preservers. Lower 
away! ” 

The boat was lowered till it was close to 
the water. “ Cut the ropes! ” 

Splash! The boat struck the water and 
spun around a time or two, then righted and 
the Circus-ship hadn’t lost a minute. “ An- 
other hinsult to ’is mawjesty!” screamed 
Beef-and-Mutton-Chops, shaking both fists 
from the small boat. 

[ 314 ] 



An-other hinsult ! 
Mutton - Chops 


screamed “ Beef-and- 
shahmg both fists. 
























SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Mr. Packlepoose and Zeno only laughed, 
and The Petrel had to stop to pick up her 
customs official, by which the Circus-ship 
gained several minutes. Meanwhile the skies 
grew darker, the wind rose and Erie quickly 
lashed herself into an angry mood. The men 
on The Petrel were evidently angry, too, and 
now determined to run down the Circus-ship, 
if they had to chase her clear to the south 
shores of the lake. 

A couple of hours passed before The 
Petrel regained her position and by this time 
the storm began to rage so furiously that she 
lost sight of her prey. The heavens were 
almost as black as night, the wind shrieked 
in wild glee, and The Petrel bobbed about 
like a toy boat. Nevertheless she held to her 
course, her captain hoping that the Circus- 
ship might be driven back into Canadian 
waters and that, when the weather lifted, The 
Petrel might be between the American shore 
and the American boat. 

Thunder raged and lightning flashed. A 
[ 315 ] 


JUST THEN 


terrific bolt appeared to split the heavens and 
lighted up the waves for miles. Pursuer 
and pursued caught sight of each other in 
the glare. 

As if that mighty stroke of lightning were 
the last effort of the storm king, the wind 
gradually grew less, the sky cleared and 
when The Petrel again caught sight of the 
Circus-ship, late in the afternoon, the small 
anger of the Britishers changed in an instant 
to a great pity. From the after-deck of the 
Circus-ship arose a column of black smoke, 
with an occasional red tongue cutting through 
it. The great bolt had struck the Circus-ship. 
She was on fire! 

The Petrel still followed, but intent now 
only to help, not to capture. She saw, too, 
that the northwestern gale had blown both 
vessels far along under cover of its blackness. 
The American shore was in sight. 

On board the Circus-ship there was a ter- 
rible time. The poor, terrified animals roared 
and shrieked and screamed in their quarters. 

[ 316 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


The crew had worked hard, but the fire had 
got into the hay and now gained so rapidly 
there seemed no doubt that the ship was 
doomed. “ Take to the boats ! ” cried Zachary 
Zeno. 

The man at the wheel lashed it fast. The 
engineer and firemen tumbled out of the hold. 
The momentum of the boat still blew the 
smoke and flames aft, and left the forward 
part of the boat free of them. Under quick 
and rapid orders the boats were lowered and 
as the steam died down in the boilers the 
Circus-ship slowed down. The first boat in 
charge of Zeno got away handily. Another 
and another, and Mr. Packlepoose had been 
left in charge of the last boat. It was all 
ready to shove off with the last man safe 
and the shore in easy reach. 

Just then something happened. 

I think I have told you enough of Mr. 
Packlepoose so that you know he was rather 
tender-hearted. He never hurt anything or 
anybody, if he could help it. And now the 
[ 817 ] 


JUST THEN 


cries of the poor animals locked in their cages, 
with the smell of fire in their nostrils, were 
too much for him. In the few days he had 
been with them, many of them had become 
like pets in his eyes. “ I can’t leave them 
without giving them a chance for their lives ! ” 
he exclaimed. 

Jumping out of the boat, he ran back into 
the burning ship. The sailors shouted to him, 
but as he paid no attention, they thought he 
was crazy. 

Mr. Packlepoose began at the cage nearest 
the fire and slipped the bolt of every door. 
Then he went around again and slipped each 
door open just a little. He did this so it 
would give each animal a few moments to 
work the door open and he would have a 
start to escape. He ran to the forward 
davits where he had left the boat, but it was 
gone. The panic-stricken sailors had pulled 
away and left him on a burning boat filled 
with wild animals which he, himself, had 
just released. Dusk was coming on. 

[ 318 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


“ Well,” said Mr. Packlepoose, half aloud, 
“ this looks like my last chance. I can either 
burn up, be eaten, or drown.” 

The fire got hotter and hotter. The animals 
screamed and roared and crowded forward, 
snapping and snarling among themselves. 
Mr. Packlepoose ran out on the bow-sprit 
and was safe for a minute. Then a black- 
maned lion and his mate began to crawl out 
on the bowsprit. 

Mr. Packlepoose gave a last look and 
dropped into the water. The shore seemed 
a long way off, but the one thing Mr. Packle- 
poose could do best was to swim. The lions 
dropped in, too, and followed Mr. Packle- 
poose. It was a close race, but Mr. Packle- 
poose touched bottom first and scrambled 
pantingly through the shallow water toward 
the beach. On his right, the black-maned 
lion scrambled out. On his left, the lioness 
was only a few seconds behind. 

Out on the lake the burning boat had at- 
tracted the life-saving service, the fire-boat 
[ 319 ] 


JUST THEN 


and several tugs. The Petrel had come up, 
more than willing to do anything to help. 
But the Sailors’ Circus people had escaped 
in the boats and no one had seen Mr. Packle- 
poose in the evening dusk; so, to the amazed 
life-savers and the rest, the burning boat 
seemed manned entirely by wild animals. 

The beach on which Mr. Packlepoose 
landed was very short. Ahead of him was 
a bluff, behind him the water, on each side 
a lion. In the gathering gloom he saw a dark 
spot in the dark bank, right ahead of him. 
It looked like the entrance to a cave, a very 
well-formed cave, lined with brick. Mr. 
Packlepoose dodged in, not because he 
wanted to, but because there was no place 
else to go. It was a very deep cave, if it 
were a cave, and he thought to hide there 
till the lions went away. Presently he saw 
four shining yellow eyes peering in. Mr. 
Packlepoose did not hesitate, but ran farther 
in. A moment later the four eyes followed. 

And now a peculiar sensation came to Mr. 

[ 320 ] 



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He clambered out, replaced tbe lid and looked 
about. 






SOMETHING HAPPENED 


Packlepoose. It was as if he were unravel- 
ing a spool he had wound some time before. 
The spool was a portion of his life, for it 
flashed upon him that he was in the same 
sewer he had been through a year before. 
But then he was running out. This time he 
was going in, and the farther he went the 
less chance to escape the four glaring eyes 
behind him. 

Strange to say, the great drain was almost 
dry. Mr. Packlepoose remembered that it 
had been building when he went away and 
evidently the upper part was still unfinished; 
so that it had not yet been put to actual use, 
and only the excess of the storm-water flowed 
through it. 

Farther and farther he went, groping on 
in the darkness. Behind him came the lions, 
and came faster, for they could see in the 
dark and he couldn’t. It looked like a mat- 
ter of minutes till they would get him. 

Running with his hands out, he struck 
something. He felt again. It was a ladder. 

[ 321 ] 


SOMETHING HAPPENED 


In a moment he had clambered up. His 
head came bump against a piece of flat iron. 
Getting his shoulders under it, he lifted and 
it gave way. Pushing it aside he looked up 
into the sky where the first faint stars were 
glowing. 

He clambered out, replaced the iron lid 
and looked about him. With a start he 
recognized his own corner. A few doors 
away he heard someone tap on a window, a 
sash was thrown up and a childish scream 
came to his ears. Mr. Packlepoose ran toward 
it. Then a porch-light flashed on and off 
and on again. Mr. Packlepoose ran up the 
steps and opened the door. 

Just then something happened. 

I’ll leave you to imagine what it was. 


THE END. 


[ 322 ] 














































' 













































































MAY 6 


1314 












